Shirelings
by Puddum
Summary: Merry and Pippin's adventures in the Shire prior to the War of the Ring. First loves, new and old enemies, good friends and great food await!
1. Why Hobbiton Folk Don't Fish

_Note: This story has been long in the making and I can't believe I'm actually uploading the first chapter. I didn't think this would ever end up in a shareable format outside of my brain. I'd like to thank my friend Becky for her many contributions to the story. Without her I wouldn't have come up with most of this material. I also want to thank Marissa for her constant support and pestering. Without her I would have stashed this in the back of my head and left it there._

_I hope you enjoy this cute, silly soap opera-like story. Perhaps its themes are simple, but I think everyday occurrences and the connections we make among each other are just as important as the epic adventures that are born of these connections.  
_

_Obviously I do not own anything. None of the characters in this chapter, anyway._

**Shirelings**

**_Chapter 1_**

**_Why Hobbiton Folk Don't Fish  
_**

One year exactly before the events of the War of the Ring came into play, two young hobbits stood by a brick wall in Hobbiton discussing their plans for the day. It was a lovely spring morning and there was plenty of time for an adventure of sorts before their dinner with their cousin Frodo Baggins. The younger, more talkative Pippin Took eagerly listed off options to his older cousin Merry Brandybuck as the pensive fellow appeared to listen quietly while staring off into the distance.

"Also, we could visit the Green Dragon, couldn't we?" said Pippin eagerly recalling the finest ale in the Shire- and for all he cared, the world. "I haven't been there in ages!"

"Sure, Pip," Merry muttered distractedly as he continued to look elsewhere. "Why not?"

Pippin followed Merry's gaze to see what or whom he was watching and understood why he was getting such pathetic responses. Estella Bolger, the young sister of their close friend Fredegar "Fatty" Bolger, was coming down the lane carrying a covered basket, which, no doubt, housed some of the delicious pastries that she was so prone to baking. Pippin knew how his cousin felt about the girl and realized how futile any sort of conversation would be with her present. He rolled his eyes at Merry changing his posture and ruffling his hair as Estella gradually approached.

"Morning, Estella," said Merry in the tone of voice he only used on Estella- and occasionally a pretty tavern girl serving the lads their drinks.

"Good morning," Estella replied nonchalantly, giving the two a quick friendly smile.

"Wonderful weather today, eh?" Merry continued, turning around as she passed them by. This seemed to hook her. Estella stopped and placed her basket on the wall, ready to discuss at great detail the local weather.

"Oh, I know," she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "I've only been in town a day- I'm visiting my dear Aunt, you know- and I've had to completely change my outfit. It was just too warm!"

"Well, personally, I feel a little chilly myself," interjected Pippin while hugging himself for warmth. "But Tuckborough is a bit further South, so you get used to warmer weather..."

There was an awkward moment of silence during which Pippin realized Merry was glaring daggers at him. Finally the silence was broken with Merry hissing "Beat it, Pip!" Pippin glared back, but shuffled off anyway once Merry added in a low whisper, "Golden opportunities don't present themselves every day, you know."

While his cousin flirted with the Bolger lass, Pippin trudged off angrily towards the Water, the aptly named river that ran through the Shire, all the while grumbling mild oaths to himself. He didn't have a definite plan or route mapped out in his mind, but he hoped to find some new and entertaining way of killing time before dinner with Frodo.

It wasn't that he didn't have options, but they just weren't as appealing at the moment as wandering aimlessly down the riverbank. He could, for instance, head over to the Green Dragon, as he had previously suggested to Merry, but where would the fun be in going alone? Of course he could find SOMEONE to drink with- he was a Took, after all- but it was probably too early for that, anyway. Then there was the marketplace, where he could try and wheedle out a free pastry or two due to being related to almost everyone somehow. But it being barely noon, he reckoned the tastiest treats would be sold later in the day and the goods that WERE available presently would be a day too old for his sensitive palate.

No, there would be plenty of time to eat quality meals later on at Bag End. Besides, he'd only had second breakfast little less than an hour ago. Now was a good time and temperature for a brisk stroll through Hobbiton. However, he didn't have to briskly stroll very long, for he hadn't left Merry more than ten minutes when he spotted an odd enough sight to warrant his attention: there, on the edge of the river, sat a person with a bucket and, more importantly, a fishing pole.

He'd gone fishing with his Brandybuck cousins often enough when he visited the East Farthing, and there it was fairly common to see hobbits sitting in boats or on the side of the river, as this one did now. But that was Buckland and, though he loved his Brandybuck relatives dearly, it was widely considered unorthodox for a decent hobbit to attempt fishing or, for that matter, to do anything that had to do with bodies of water. Most hobbits he knew on the other side of the Brandywine feared deep water, and for good reason, too, he supposed. Why, the whole reason Frodo lived in Hobbiton was due to the drowning of his parents years ago. Or so Pippin was told, anyway.

So now when he spotted this Hobbiton hobbit partaking in an activity he rarely witnessed in these parts, he couldn't help but give in to curiosity and investigate. He approached the person, whose gender he could not differentiate both due to the awkward angle at which he stood and the ambiguous outfit said person wore, which consisted of a large straw hat and overalls, and loudly said, "Hullo there! Are you fishing?"

"I sure am," came the curt response from the young hobbit. He still couldn't quite tell whether it was a girl or a boy who hadn't quite hit his tweens yet. He prodded further, saying, "I didn't know Hobbiton folk could fish."

"I'm not from Hobbiton," said the other, sounding slightly amused, as if Pippin's guess was utterly ridiculous. "I'm from Long Cleeve," she added, turning around to reveal if not a very feminine boy's face then definitely one belonging to a girl. She had pink and slightly sunburnt skin with freckles, light blue eyes, and a fair, strawberry blonde fringe sticking out sloppily out from under the brim of her hat.

"Long Cleeve, eh?" Pippin wasn't precisely sure where that was, but he reckoned the town lay somewhere in the North Farthing. And as far as he knew from his adventures, the North Farthing was not fish country. "And they fish there, do they?"

"No," replied the girl as she fiddled with the string of her rod. "But they do in Buckland."

"I know that!" Pippin exclaimed, his frustration with Merry flaring up again. "My ARSE of a cousin is a Brandybuck."

He took a second to collect himself, realizing in embarrassment that this poor girl had nothing to do with his annoying situation and probably thought him a strange buffoon. To his relief, she didn't seem to mind the outburst and, in fact, was smiling at him.

"And you're a Took," she said wrinkling her nose in concentration before adding, "...from the South!"

Pippin clapped his hands in amazement, being thoroughly surprised by the girl's apparent clairvoyance. "Oh, that's a marvelous trick!" he said laughing. "How did you know?"

"I'm a North Took," the girl explained while patting his foot patronizingly. "I can tell."

She turned back around to focus on her task, but quietly added, "Also the accent."

Pippin covered his mouth both sheepishly and gingerly, as if feeling for the accent that gave his heritage away. He removed it, however, when she stuck out her sunburnt, freckled hand and properly introduced herself, saying, "I'm Mundee."

"Peregrin Took," he replied as he shook her hand. "But friends call me Pippin."

Pippin sat down next to Mundee, this strangely named Northerner, and gazed below into the green murky depths of the river. He couldn't see a single fish but the girl continued to contentedly move the rod around, causing the bob to dance just a little beyond the surface. He wondered how well she knew what she was doing and, furthermore, how she had learned in the first place.

"You know, I've gone fishing before," he said after nearly a full minute of silence. "I could help you if you need." He reached over to grab the rod, hoping to show her how the job was meant to be done.

"No, that's fine," she said, pulling away from him. "I know what I'm doing. You can just watch, if you like."

Pippin raised his arms in acquiescence and then feeling useless got up to investigate the one lone fish she'd manage to catch. He wondered if perhaps an older brother had helped her with it.

"So, _Mundee_," he said, feeling out the foreign sounding name, "how did you learn to fish?"

Mundee made a little irritated noise in her throat and then answered, "My father drags me around the Shire on his business trips. You pick things up over time."

"Business trips. I see." Pippin tried to sound like this was something he was very knowledgeable about. "What sort of business? I heard the pipeweed industry is... smoking." He couldn't help himself but to make the joke; fortunately Mundee had a sense of humor, after all, and chuckled appreciatively.

"I don't know what he does, to tell you the truth," she said, finally putting the rod down, and turning to face him. "But why are you asking all these questions?"

At that precise moment, the line started to tug and Pippin was saved the awkward answer that he was simply incredibly bored. Instead he lunged out to snatch the pole, which Mundee managed to grab at the same time.

"I've got a bite!" she whooped. "I've actually got a bite!"

"Are you quite sure you don't need any help?" Pippin asked as he continued to try to pull the rod out of her surprisingly strong grip. "I really wouldn't mind at all."

"No, no, I would much rather do it myself, thanks," Mundee said as politely as hobbitly possible despite tugging with all her strength and using a leg to push Pippin away.

"Och! Was that really necessary?" Pippin shouted after being kicked square in the gut. The blow had caused him to let go of the rod, which Mundee was holding very close to her chest now as she reeled in the string.

"It wouldn't have been if you had let go when I asked you, now would it?" she said as she struggled to pull the fish in. "See? I'm doing fine."

It was rather obvious to Pippin that the minuscule girl was doing anything but fine. The string was moving frenetically in the water as the giant fish desperately tried to free itself. This wasn't going to end well if he didn't intervene.

"Oi, you're going to lose the fish!" he said as he attempted to steal the rod for the last time. "Just give it here and I'll do it for you!"

"No!" Mundee pulled the rod out of his reach and simultaneously gave him a good kick in the face. "I don't need your-"

Her words were cut off as the enormous fish won the battle, pulling the rod and Mundee attached to it into the river. As she flew into the water, she screamed a prolonged, "He-e-e-elp!", effectively finishing her sentence. Before Pippin could do anything, she had been carried downstream some minor distance where, by good fortune, she managed to grab onto a tree root sticking out of the opposite bank.

He ran down the length of the river until he reached the point where she was hanging on for dear life and shouted out of habit, "Are you all right?"

"Are you daft? Go get help, for pity's sake!" she half-shouted and half-gurgled as she struggled against the current.

"Well, there's no need for lip! I was about to get help, anyway. I was just being polite!" With that out of his system, Pippin ran across the stretch of green to where Merry and Estella were still standing around flirting.

"Merry!" he called as he approached the pair. "Merry, do come! There is a girl drowning in the river!"

Merry groaned in exasperation, assuming his cousin was spinning a yarn to get him away from Estella. "Pippin, can't you see I'm busy? I'll come have a drink with you later."

"She can't swim! You have to come!" Pippin was getting visibly agitated, wringing his hands and jumping from foot to foot. Estella, moved by the display, tugged on Merry's arm and said, "Oh, we'd better go! I fear he's telling the truth!"

Merry looked from Pippin, who seemed ready to weep from frustration, to Estella, clinging to his arm in supplication, and finally acquiesed. "Oh, all right!" he said as he began to run for the river. "But if there isn't a drowning girl there, I will box your ears! That's a promise!"

Pippin dashed after Merry, with Estella following closely much to his surprise. "I always tell the truth, by the way," he called over his shoulder.

They arrived swiftly at the river bank, where they could see Mundee still fighting to stay above the water.

"Well, she isn't drowning," said Merry assessing the situation as Pippin raised his hands to protect his ears. Mundee made to say something insulting their slowness in rescuing her when suddenly the root she was holding onto cracked, leaving her hanging on even more precariously. Embracing the seriousness of the situation, Merry pulled the pocket watch out of his breeches and dove into the water.

He swam, with some difficulty, across the width of the narrow river until he finally reached Mundee. Pippin and Estella watched in frightful anticipation as he managed to grab a hold of her just before the root snapped completely. It took him somewhat longer to get back across, what with the small but significant load he was carrying, but both made it back ashore safely.

Pippin looked from his sputtering cousin, coughing out nearly half a pint of river water, to the soggy girl lying unconscious between the three of them. He poked her in the shoulder but she continued to lie on the ground stiff as a brick.

"Oh, you've killed her!" he cried at Merry as his cousin was being clapped on the back by Estella, even though he was clearly coughing for show at this point. "She's been drowned to death!"

"Nonsense, she's fine," said Merry as he finally stopped coughing. Estella's hand remained on his back, however, much to his apparent pleasure. When Pippin started hyperventilating, Merry sighed dramatically and leaned into the girl's face to see what state she was in and calm down his panicking cousin. As luck would have it, she chose to open her eyes at that precise moment.

"See? She's quite all right. Wide awake and breathing much better than you are. Now stop fidgeting before we have to go fetch your old nurse." Merry grinned at Estella as he teased Pippin about the childhood nanny he grew quite attached to. Pippin scowled for a moment and then focused back on Mundee.

"How are you feeling? Do you need anything?" Mundee continued to stare into the sky with a faraway look on her face. Glaring at Merry, he whispered, "Did Merry handle you improperly? Is that why you fainted?"

"Oi, I heard that, you little ingrate!" squawked Merry as he got up and shoved Pippin roughly in the head. "Come on, Estella, let's go finish our conversation. I was very interested to hear about your aunt's lower back pains."

Estella smiled a bemused and knowing smile as Merry hooked his arm into hers and began to lead her away from the scene. "I hope your friend recovers soon, Pippin," she said softly before being whisked away.

Pippin shook his head and looked again at Mundee, who seemed to be regaining lucidity as she looked around and stretched. She sat up and gazed past Pippin at Merry and Estella as they strolled down the road in the opposite direction of town.

"Who was that?" she said dreamily as she leaned against Pippin who looked away to hide the growing blush spreading through his cheeks.

"Estella? She's my friend's sister. A distant relation, I think, but I don't usually talk to her much. She's rather nice, though. Very good with pastries." Pippin rambled as he poked and fiddled with a button on his shirt. Mundee laughed and slapped his knee. "Not her- _him_," she said, pointing at a Merry-colored speck on the road.

The heat in Pippin's face quickly drained and his voice came out small. "He's my cousin... the Brandybuck I was telling you about."

He felt a nasty feeling in his stomach as Mundee looked up at him, her face beaming with hope, and said, "Tell me more."


	2. Where All Hungry Adventurers Meet

_Oh wow, I can't believe I actually finished the second chapter. Sorry for the wait (I say to all three people that read), but, as I'm sure you've surmised, school unfortunately takes up a lot of my time and creative energy. But here it is... the long awaited the second chapter-- and already there are new original characters that belong to me. Took me long enough, right? As always, I obviously don't own any of Tolkien's characters or work. Enjoy and please review!_  
**  
Shirelings**

_**Chapter 2**_

_**Where All Hungry Adventurers Meet  
**_

A light breeze skipped across the sparkling waters of the Bywater Pool and swept past the two hobbits sitting side by side on its southern shore. Merry watched the wind lick up Estella's dark brown curls and contemplated the curve of her neck. They'd strolled all the way down the road towards the pool and decided to take a rest there while musing on where to have lunch. She'd protested weakly at first, claiming her aunt's well-being was a top priority, but relented when Merry countered that he'd seen her aunt earlier in the day tending to her own garden, looking as healthy as a hobbit half her age.

Now they sat on the more secluded side of the water watching a family of ducks engaging in their daily rituals. Estella plucked a corn muffin from her basket and began breaking it apart to toss the pieces into the water for the eager recipients.

"Oh, Estella, don't do that!" He said as she chucked a larger piece over the mother duck's head. "Why would you waste a perfectly good muffin on ducks when you have a perfectly hungry hobbit right here?"

She chuckled but continued to throw the chunks into the water. "Merry, if you want one so terribly just take one. Auntie won't mind and I certainly don't either. There's plenty more where it came from."

Merry touched her hand as she was about to send the last piece flying. "But it isn't any fun if I just take it. Throw me a piece," he said with a wink. Estella giggled and tossed him the last bit, which he skillfully caught with his mouth. He raised his arms as if expecting applause and Estella clapped appreciatively, albeit with a shake of her head. A disappointed duckling swam away from the couple seeing that no more muffin crumbs would come its way.

"Poor thing," Estella sighed, turning back around to see her feathery new friend leaving them. "Look, you made the ducks go away."

Merry made an aggravated noise in response to her pout and shouted, "Oh, would you stop worrying about the ducks?" He tackled her in one swift motion and playfully whined, "I'm absolutely starving!"

"Merry!" Estella shrieked as she pushed him off and sat back up. "Someone will see!"

"Oh, no one's here! Come back," he said, pulling her back down. "Really, I didn't think you were as cowardly as your brother. You know he thinks there's monsters in the Old Forest?"

Estella snorted but allowed herself to relax as Merry played with her hair. "I am much braver than Fatty. He wakes up several times in the night from cricket noises. That's why he's so plump- he has five midnight snacks every night."

They both had a bit of a laugh at the expense of poor Fredegar, but as presently he wasn't with them, there was clearly no harm. And had he been there, he would have probably chuckled as well. Although not with his little sister and good friend in the position they were in. Her old self consciousness slipping back in, Estella had to sit up again, much to Merry's annoyance.

He sat up as well, but before he could pull her back down, she stuck up her hand motioning him to stop. She seemed to be listening for something and he became more alert, too. He listened for half a minute before he decided there was no danger and lay back down.

"I don't reckon there's anything out there," he said putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. Estella continued to look around a moment longer, but then with a shrug she said, "I suppose you're right. It was probably just a squirrel."

She remained sitting but seemed significantly less tense; Merry groaned as she absentmindedly pulled out another muffin. However instead of breaking it apart and feeding it to the ducks, she handed it to him with an expression on her face that said 'See? I'm perfectly willing to be charitable to hobbits as well as ducks.'

Merry grinned and rubbed the muffin on his lapel before taking an immodest bite. Estella shook her head and took out another one for herself, as well. The two ate quietly but not without shooting each other silly and flirtacious looks.

Upon finishing, Merry pushed himself up onto one elbow and took a hold of Estella's hand, which she didn't pull away despite the pink tint creeping into her cheeks.

"So when can I come to see you at Budgeford without pretending that I want to see Fatty?" he asked in a much more serious tone than he'd been sporting all day. "You'll be of age next year; I hardly think your parents would disapprove of us being together now."

Estella sighed and stroked his head. "I know it doesn't seem like much of a difference, but I think they'd really prefer it if we didn't start courting until I'm old enough."

"'If we didn't start courting?' Then what does today fall under? Or the past year, for that matter?" cried Merry as he stood up and gesticulated with exasperation. He picked up a stone and threw it hard against the water, causing it skip nearly across the entire pool.

Estella rose to her feet and approached Merry cautiously as he continued skipping stones. She waited for him to stop, and then, to his surprise as well as her own, she hugged him from behind.

"I'm sorry," she murmured into the back of his orange vest. "I didn't mean for it to sound that way. I like you very much, you know."

Merry turned around and smiled despite himself. Estella wasn't this affectionate or physical most of the time. She certainly knew which buttons to press.

"I like you very much, too," he said as he wrapped his arms around her in reciprocation of her embrace. "And I thought your family was fond of me as well! I come from a good stock of Brandybucks- the heir to a rather important position, by the way. Most people seem to like me. And I don't believe I'm terribly hard on the eyes, either!"

"Oh, certainly not," Estella agreed in a mock serious voice. Then she did something supremely unexpected and kissed Merry lightly on the mouth. He stared at her for a few seconds, frozen with shock, and when she started to stammer that she was sorry, he returned the favor and effectively silenced her apologies.

Just when the two thought that the day had reached its quota of surprises, two strange and unpleasant looking hobbits stepped out from behind a large bush and approached the pair sneering. One was slightly taller than the other, but neither was taller than Merry, although they were significantly broader and stockier. The shorter one had a bushy head of curls while the taller had slicked back his limp frizzy hair, and they both had smug menacing smirks plastered on their ruddy faces.

"What's all this? Two lovebirds sneaking around on private property," clucked the shorter one sarcastically while his friend rubbed his index fingers together in a falsely admonishing manner.

"Who are you and what do you want?" said Merry sternly as Estella moved behind him instinctively. The two intruders only laughed and continued to stalk closer.

"You don't know us but we know you, Brandybuck," spat the other hobbit. The longer Merry looked at them the more he felt as if he did indeed know them- or at the very least had seen them before. However, he couldn't place their names or where he'd seen them. They were probably local rustics- patrons of the Green Dragon or the Ivy Bush.

"Just because you own all that queer land past the river, don't mean you own anything here. Don't mean you can go around on other people's land. Isn't that right, Ted?" continued the nastier ruffian. Ted Sandyman- for indeed it was the miller's son- laughed and clapped him on the back, saying, "Now, Ollie, don't get worked up, eh? This dandy ain't worth it."

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Merry shouted, getting visibly irritated. Estella, who had been hiding behind him for protection, now jumped in front of him and held him back from engaging in an unfair brawl.

"I'm sorry, we didn't know we were trespassing," she said, trying to diffuse the situation with common courtesy. "We'll just leave now," she continued as she began to pull Merry back towards the road. Unfortunately for her, Ollie had no concept of common courtesy and roughly grabbed Estella by the arm.

"_You_ can stay, Crumpet," he said much too close to her face for comfort. "It's your friend we don't like."

Estella pulled away just as Merry came swinging at Ollie. He managed one sizable blow before Ted had his arms locked behind his back. Merry struggled in vain as the heavier hobbit successfully restrained him while his cohort landed wallop after wallop into poor Merry's stomach. The thug struck him powerfully in the face when suddenly he collapsed onto the ground gasping in pain.

Ignored and unnoticed, Estella had grabbed a large stone and thrown it hard against the side of Ollie's head- much harder than she'd been throwing the muffin bits earlier. Then with a well-aimed and extremely lucky kick just below Merry's groin, she got Ted where it hurts, leaving him curled up on the ground next to his bruised but not-broken friend.

The two still-standing hobbits ran for the road as quickly as they could before the ones that had fallen could get up and come exact revenge. Merry wheezed and had to stop a few times to catch his breath, but they safely made it to the Green Dragon, their feet having carried them there out of habit. The inn wasn't completely empty, but the few customers there ignored them as they crept into a corner and practically collapsed into their seats.

* * *

Back in Hobbiton, Pippin led Mundee to Bag End where he promised to dig up some spare clothes she could change into, since her present attire was still soaked from her earlier swim in the river. They strolled through the gate and promptly bumped into Samwise Gamgee, who'd been hard at work in Frodo's garden and didn't hear them enter. At once the humble hobbit began to apologize far more than the situation warranted.

"Oh, beg your pardon, Mr. Pippin! Didn't hear you come in, I was just so busy planting these petunias. Springtime is a busy time for gardeners, you know," rambled Sam as he clapped some of the dirt from his hands.

"Not to worry, Sam. No harm done!" Pippin replied with a laugh. "Say, do you know if Frodo is in?" he said, peering into a round window.

"No, he went for a walk. I reckon he'll be back soon, though," said Sam looking thoughtful as he tried to remember how long ago his master had left. Suddenly Mundee's presence registered in his head as she sniffled loudly and dripped onto his newly planted petunias- that changed things somewhat.

"Now see here, I don't think Master Frodo would approve of whatever shenanigans you've got in mind," he said as he marched up to Pippin, waggling his finger scoldingly. Mundee snickered as Pippin put his hands on Sam's shoulders in what he thought to be a comforting motion.

"Sam, I swear on my second breakfast that I am not up to any shenanigans," he assured the servant. "I'll only be in for a moment- you see my friend, Mundee, here fell into the Water before and she will surely catch cold if she doesn't put on something dry."

"Merry rescued me," Mundee chimed in, to which Pippin rolled his eyes. More or less appeased, Sam let them in and continued tending to the flowers, although not without muttering that he was just doing his job and didn't need trouble from silly young Tooks.

Pippin led Mundee down Bag End's various hallways to the guestroom he was sharing with Merry. It was easy to tell which bed was which: one was impeccably tidy, with its sheets all folded carefully and a single rucksack sitting on the edge, while the other was in a state of utter disarray. Pippin dove into the pile on the latter bed in search of clean garments. Mundee busied herself by casually glancing into Merry's bag.

"Aha, this should do," Pippin said triumphantly as he pulled out a cream-colored shirt and a pair of tan trousers. His smile fell away when he saw Mundee sifting through his cousin's things. "Oi, have you no concept of privacy?" he cried, as he threw the clothes at her head. "Stop snooping and put these on."

Mundee stuck out her tongue at him as he walked out of the room to let her change. In the meantime, he would have a bit of a snack; Frodo certainly wouldn't mind or notice if food went missing. These days he seemed to have other things on his mind.

Pippin traipsed over to the kitchen and found a sandwich lying around on the table, practically waiting for him. He had barely begun to chew his first bite when Sam's head popped out of the window. He just about choked from fright.

"So who is your lady-friend?" he asked casually as if he hadn't just jumped out of the bushes.

"Heavens, Sam! You certainly know how to give a fellow a scare!" Pippin responded as he recovered from the shock. "And I told you: she's a friend. Just some girl I met today."

"Mr. Pippin sure does move quickly, bringing home lasses he's just met," Sam remarked almost to himself.

"First of all, this isn't my home," Pippin said while shaking the sandwich as he spoke. "And second, it's one lass. And if you tell anyone anything different I might have to tell Rosie Cotton that Merry and I spied you talking to Gardenia Bracegirdle. In hushed tones, no less."

"All right, you win," Sam admitted looking sheepish. "But tell me one more thing."

"Anything at all, Sam," Pippin said smugly while taking another grand bite.

"What are you doing scarfing down my lunch?" Sam said pointing at the sandwich, which Pippin carefully turned over to examine.

"Oh, is this yours? It's very tasty. But I'm afraid it's my lunch now," he said saucily before taking another bite.

"And now it's mine!" said Mundee suddenly as she grabbed the sandwich away from Pippin. He scowled at her thievery (but moreso because he wondered how long she'd been standing in the room and eavesdropping) and began to leave.

"Well, now that you're ready, we can head out and let Sam finish his gardening," he said as he headed for the exit. Mundee quickly followed behind, finishing what was left of Sam's meal. As they walked towards the gate, Pippin called out, "Goodbye, Sam! No hard feelings about the sandwich!"

Sam waved at them and smiled while muttering under his breath and plotting how to best get back at Pippin for this most ungallant and devious deed.

* * *

The two young hobbits strolled down the road past the smaller but equally charming dwellings on Bagshot Row. At number 3, Sam's Gaffer sat on a bench smoking with his neighbor, Daddy Twofoot. Pippin waved at the old fellows, though they seemed curious and confused about his oddly dressed companion.

Mundee frowned and tugged at her (well, Pippin's) loose shirt. "They must think I'm a boy. I'm quite a sorry sight, aren't I?" she said to Pippin while gesturing at the ridiculous outfit.

"No, you look fine," Pippin lied. "So how about a real lunch? Half a sandwich is hardly enough to tide me over." He decided to change the topic lest she continue to press him. He got enough questions about dresses and hairstyles from his sisters, he didn't need a sartorial discussion now.

"Oh, you read my mind," Mundee exclaimed with delight, much to his relief. "Where should we go? What do you recommend?"

Pippin instantly regretted posing the question as now it was his responsibility to decide where to eat... which would, of course, reflect on his judgment and character. His initial thought would be one of the pubs on the outskirts of town, but now he wondered whether he ought to take her somewhere less... rowdy. There was at least one small eatery in the village that served pastries and tea, but it was the sort of place his sisters would describe as "quaint" or "adorable." He decided to go with his gut, in every sense of the word.

"How do you feel about the Green Dragon?" he asked, expecting a grimace and finding instead a look of recognition and enthusiasm.

"Oh, I love it there. They've got the best ale," she said grinning.

"Aren't you a bit young for that stuff?" he said with a laugh. She blew a raspberry at him and skipped up the road towards the tavern. "I refuse to skip!" he called out after her. "We Southern Tooks deem it unseemly!" After a moment, he decided to run and catch up to her, but found himself sprinting ahead.

They raced all the way to Bywater, where at last they stopped by a fence to rest. Mundee insisted that she'd beat him there, but Pippin knew the truth, even if it had been toe to toe. They stopped bickering to watch Estella and a very haggard-looking Merry stagger into the Green Dragon. Mundee and Pippin exchanged a look of curiosity and wandered in after the first pair.

* * *

No sooner had Merry and Estella ordered their drinks than Pippin and the drowning girl from earlier had walked into the tavern and joined them at their table in the corner. Merry tried to smile, but he only succeeded in looking like he was wincing in pain... which, to a certain degree, he was. Estella pulled out a chair for the girl, but she took the one nearest to him instead, which thankfully Estella gracefully ignored. Pippin sat across from Merry and gave him a questioning look, but Merry didn't feel like revisiting the fight and decided he'd go into details later when they were alone.

"I'm fine, really," he fibbed. "What have you sprites been up to? Looking sufficiently dry, I see," he said, directing the latter comment at the girl, who looked ready to climb onto his lap. Pippin seemed aware of this invasion of his personal space and thankfully pulled her chair closer to his own.

"Mundee and I stopped at Bag End. I lent her some of my things," said Pippin when the apparently tongue-tied girl failed to answer.

"They suit you well," Estella chimed in pleasantly. Mundee scowled in response. "What, are you suggesting that I look like a boy?" Estella looked stunned and there was an awkward moment of silence before she managed to stammer a suitable reply. "Oh, dear, no! I meant it as a compliment," she said, looking for agreement from Merry and Pippin.

Merry was only able to let out a hearty laugh at the ridiculous situation, which fortunately lightened the group's mood considerably. A barmaid approached the table with Merry and Estella's drinks and Pippin ordered two more. Soon enough they were all eating, drinking and laughing, having forgotten all previous grievances and worries. Mundee continued to stare starry-eyed at Merry and Merry continued to scoot closer to Estella, but otherwise it was a very pleasant lunch.

"Listen, I have a joke! You- listen," said Pippin, tapping Mundee on the shoulder as she downed half a pint. "An elf, a dwarf, and a hobbit walk into a tavern-"

"I've heard this one before!" Mundee shouted a bit too loudly as she teetered on her seat. She'd probably had a bit more than her frame could stand.

"No, you haven't," said Pippin as he tried to keep her from falling over backwards. "I just made this one up. So, as I was saying, an elf, a dwarf, and a hobbit-"

"Diamond! What are you doing drinking ale?" This time Pippin's joke was cut off by a shout from a middle-aged hobbit who looked strangely familiar. The portly fellow marched over from the staircase leading to the inn's guestrooms and pulled Mundee up from her seat.

"Hullo, Dad!" she slurred at her infuriated father. "Meet my new friends. This is Pippin, this is Merry, and I can't remember her name, but-"

"Who got her these drinks?" Mundee's father demanded, pointing at the three mugs she'd finished. Merry and Estella instantly pointed at Pippin who tried not to look as frightened as he felt.

"Well, technically, she was going to pay for them..." Pippin rambled, trying to defend himself.

"She's only twenty two!" shouted the red-faced hobbit. "I've heard enough. Up the stairs, Diamond! What will your mother say when she hears about this," he said as he marched his daughter away. Mundee looked forlornly back at the table and shrugged her shoulders apologetically before disappearing into the second floor.

"Ooh, she's so young," Estella finally said, breaking the terrible silence. "It's no wonder she couldn't hold her liquor."

"Well, I suppose we won't be seeing much more of her, eh, Pip?" said Merry as he returned to his potatoes and sausage.

"No, I suppose not," said Pippin before taking a mighty gulp of his ale.

* * *

_Thanks for reading all of that! I hope you've enjoyed and are looking forward to the rest as much as I am. Please let me know what you thought in a review-- it only takes two seconds and totally encourages me to hurry up with the next chapter. :)_


	3. A Post Dinner Excursion

**Shirelings**

_**Chapter 3**_

_**A Post-Dinner Excursion**_

It was approximately seven o'clock according to the clock on the mantelpiece in Frodo's dining room- "approximately" because the clock was the very same that had hid a rather important note from Frodo's uncle Bilbo some seventy seven years ago and was thus quite old. Frodo was quite fond of the relic and didn't mind the fact that it was often ten minutes off.

Staring at the timepiece, he let his mind wander and reminisce about the stories Bilbo told him. He wondered where Bilbo was now and whether he was on another one of his adventures. A familiar longing stirred in his heart and he thought to himself whether the day would soon come that he too would live out such a tall tale.

His musings were interrupted by a loud belch from Pippin who had at last finished his supper. Although Merry rolled his eyes, neither of the older cousins could stifle an appreciative chuckle.

"That was magnificent!" exclaimed Pippin as he let his fork drop. Frodo, who had long finished eating, rose and began to collect the dishes, ready to clean up after his guests.

"What was? The meal or the belch?" asked Merry as he stood to help Frodo.

"I'd say both, wouldn't you?" said Pippin, who remained seated. Merry responded by dropping several dishes onto his lap and taking the rest into the kitchen.

"I was going to help!" Pippin called after him. "I just needed to rest a moment after such a splendid supper," he continued as he finally went to the kitchen.

"Now, now! You're my guest," said Frodo, as he took the dinnerware from him. "You two must leave the kitchen at once and have a seat in the drawing room."

Merry promptly snatched the dishes away from Frodo and took them to the sink. "And what kind of guests would we be to let our host toil away by himself?" he said, gesturing with a large soapy sponge.

Before Frodo could utter a rebuttal or steal the dishes back, the doorbell rang and all three hobbits froze. "Well, I wonder who that could be?" said Frodo. "Since you're so keen on washing up, you may start without me. I won't be half a minute."

And with that he disappeared down the hall. Merry tossed Pippin another sponge and Pippin sighed. "You just had to be polite, didn't you?" he said as he took a dish and began to scrub at it. "And look where it's got us. Frodo will be out chatting for the rest of the hour and we'll be in here slaving away like scullery maids."

"Mind you Frodo only had one serving of the shepherd's pie and you had three," Merry reminded Pippin.

"I'm a growing lad. I must be thoroughly fed!" said Pippin as he put down the sponge and reached for one of the dessert cakes. But Merry quickly whipped his hand with a rolled up towel and pushed another dirty dish at him.

"'Thoroughly fed' my left ear! If you keep eating like that you'll end up as big as your Great Aunt Lalia," Merry scolded jokingly.

"Now that's just rubbish, Merry," said Pippin, waving the sponge about to enhance his point. "You and I both know that-"

But his retort was cut off by Frodo's entrance. "Pippin, it appears you have a visitor," he said with a strange smirk on his cheerful face. Pippin remained dumbfounded until Frodo moved aside to reveal that the visitor was none other than Mundee, his new acquaintance. "She says you have something of hers. Is that true?" said Frodo while Merry quietly sneaked out of the kitchen.

"I don't know, do I?" asked Pippin, profoundly confused.

"I left my fishing rod and bucket in your room," said Mundee while fidgeting somewhat. "Also my clothes," she added sheepishly.

"Oh, dear! Will I have to chaperone you then?" chortled Frodo. Mundee deftly produced a packet out of her bag and handed it to Pippin; it was the shirt and britches he'd lent her earlier.

"She's right, I gave her some of my things to change into after she'd fallen into the Water," Pippin hurriedly explained to Frodo who looked beside himself with amusement. "You don't mind if I let her reclaim her effects, do you?"

"Well, I don't mind at all, but I'm afraid her father might if you take too long. He's waiting outside in a wagon," said Frodo pointing out the window.

Pippin looked for himself and found that Frodo was unfortunately correct. Mundee's grumpy father sat on the wagon checking his pocket-watch and tapping his foot impatiently. Pippin did not look forward to being yelled at again by the imposing older hobbit.

"Well, come on then," he said grabbing Mundee by the wrist. "Let's not tarry before your father comes in here to skin me."

Frodo shook his head as he watched Pippin drag the girl down the hall. He stepped into the drawing room to find Merry sitting in a far corner hiding behind the morning's newspaper. At Frodo's entrance, Merry lowered the newspaper and asked, "Is she gone?"

"Not quite, but I don't think you have anything to worry about," said Frodo as he took a seat on the sofa. "Our dashing young cousin has whisked her away to your room to return to her _her clothes_."

Merry grimaced and put the newspaper away. "I do hope this doesn't become a frequent occurrence. I know he's growing up, but this is much too fast... and much too irritating."

"And I'm sure nobody said the same of you when you were his age," said Frodo as he pulled out his pipe and tinderbox.

"Frodo, it's not at all the same!" said Merry as he leaped up and began to pace the room. "I know how to pick them. At least I have taste! At least I have-" He cut himself off before he revealed too much.

"At least you have what? Or who?" asked Frodo with a coy smile despite knowing well what the answer would be. Merry grinned and plopped down next to Frodo on the sofa. "Dear cousin," he said, draping one arm over Frodo's shoulders and using the other to take his pipe. "You labor under the illusion that you see and know more than the rest of us, but one day you will find that you are not the only one to see and know things."

And with that he stood up and walked out of the room, looking quite smug. Frodo sat bewildered for a moment before waking up and saying to himself, "Did he just leave with my best pipe?" He hopped up and chased after Merry.

* * *

"What a waste!" cried Mundee as she slammed the window shut.

"Careful! That's an antique!" said Pippin as he opened it back up. "Do you have any idea how upset Frodo would be if it shattered? How much it would cost him to replace it?"

"Who leaves his window open all day, anyway?" she continued to rant while kicking the empty bucket.

"I'm sorry I enjoy a fresh breeze," said Pippin with not some little amount of sarcasm. "And I'm sorry a cat stole your ONE TINY FISH."

"You do know a burglar could have climbed in and stolen all of your cousin's more important antiques," said Mundee waggling an admonishing finger in his face.

"Don't be silly," he said swatting the finger away. "The only burglar that ever came here left the Shire some twenty years ago and is probably having a grand adventure somewhere right now."

"Well, at least your room doesn't smell of fish," said Mundee ignoring Pippin's point, having no knowledge of Bilbo or of his past as a burglar. "It does smell, though," she added, pausing in the middle of the room to sniff.

Pippin used the pause to raise his arm and have a sniff for himself. No, though he certainly smelled Tookish, that was nothing new.

"It smells like... bacon," said Mundee finally. Pippin quickly lowered his arm as she spun around to face him.

"Well, that's simply absurd," said Pippin. "We didn't have any bacon for dinner or supper today. Clearly your nose is broken." He pinched her nose for effect, much like many an uncle had pinched his when he was growing up... and occasionally still did, unfortunately.

She brushed him off, and taking her things, made to leave, but not before adding, "All the same, I would do something about the smell if I were you." She disappeared down the hall and, after taking one last sniff, Pippin followed after her.

He led her to the great round door at the entrance and the two stood a moment in awkward silence.

"Well, good night, then... _Diamond_," Pippin said with a mischievous smile.

"Good night, _Peregrin_," replied Mundee, putting an equally cocky emphasis on his proper name.

"Well played! Mundee it is," he laughed as he ruffled her hair. She made a face and patted at her hair, but her expression quickly melted.

"Goodbye, Pippin," she said opening the door. She skipped away, and when she had almost gotten to the wagon, called out, "You should write me some time." She then climbed on and sidled up next to her grumpy father, who looked ready to unleash a monologue of great and terrible proportions. As the cart drove off, Pippin realized something crucial.

"But I haven't got your mailing address!" he shouted at the moving wagon. Mundee turned around and waved at him but said nothing else. He shrugged and stepped back inside, closing the door only to find Frodo and Merry standing right next to him. They seemed terribly pleased about something.

"Now just what is so entertaining?" he asked, although his tone was less confident than he'd hoped to sound.

"Nothing at all!" said Frodo as he walked off to his bedroom, shaking his head again.

"If you're done chasing skirt, Frodo and I were hoping the three of us could go for a small excursion tonight," said Merry as he walked backwards down the hall to their room. "But we'll understand if you're busy and can go without you. We three can go adventuring together another time."

"Don't you try that on me," cried Pippin as he raced down the hall, beating Merry to their room. "I'm coming with you whether you like it or no!"

Frodo came up to Merry all ready to go and the two shook hands as they watched their abysmally lazy cousin frantically pack his knapsack. Before they knew it he was pushing them out the door and urging them to hurry up. But as soon as they'd come to the road, he stopped and asked, "So, where are we going?"

* * *

The hobbits traveled aimlessly south on the road that led past Bywater and eventually connected with the East Road. Pippin began to whistle a cheerful tune just as they started to approach the Green Dragon, but Merry unexpectedly clamped a hand over his mouth. Pippin quickly wriggled out of his grip and sputtered much too loudly, "What was that for? Does my whistling hurt your ears that much?"

Frodo, who held the front of their little brigade, had kept marching ahead of them but now turned around at Pippin's exclamation and found Merry trying to hush him up.

"What is it now?" he said reproachfully as he retreated back to join them. "You know you two are getting a bit old to carry on like this."

"Oh, it's nothing. Pippin is simply overreacting, as always," said Merry as nonchalantly as he could. "Listen, why don't we get off the road and continue our trek along the Water?"

"Right, because you didn't get enough of the river earlier today," said Pippin. "And anyway, I thought we'd pop into the Green Dragon for a few drinks?"

"Right, because you didn't get enough of the Green Dragon earlier today," said Merry mockingly.

"Ah, but you can never get enough of the Green Dragon," laughed Pippin as he started heading towards the inn. But Merry pulled him back by the hood of his maroon cloak and said, "If we're going on an adventure, let's do just that and not make any long pit stops."

"You're being batty!" said Pippin as he tugged at his cloak. Frodo decided to speak up before a full out brawl ensued.

"While I agree that we should avoid wasting such a good night, I can't help but worry that that isn't your chief concern, Merry," he said pulling them apart. "You seem nervous. Is something the matter?"

"No, nothing, why would you- HIDE," Merry suddenly hissed as he ducked behind a large oak. Frodo and Pippin followed but felt silly hiding behind a tree from what was presumably nothing to fear.

"Would you be so kind to let us know who or what we are hiding from?" said Frodo as he watched Merry peek out from the side of the tree.

"Oh, never mind, it was a false alarm. It's only the Sackville-Bagginses," said Merry with a sigh of relief as he walked downhill towards the river.

"_Only_ the Sackville-Bagginses? Oh, dear, this must be serious," said Frodo as he followed Merry while pulling along a disappointed Pippin who stared dejectedly back at the Green Dragon. "Do you mean to explain those strange bruises to us now?" added Frodo. Pippin perked up at the question.

"Well, this just got interesting," he said to himself as he ran ahead to catch up to Merry. "So all that about not wanting to have another drink was because you didn't want to run into whoever gave you that shiner?" he said pointing at Merry's black eye.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Merry as he swatted away at Pippin. "I just took a tumble, that's all."

"Well, now I'm just offended! Surely you don't think we're that dim!" "Come, come, there's no hiding it now! You must tell us what happened!" Pippin and Frodo's barrage of nagging finally wore Merry down and he turned around sharply to face them.

"Well, if the truth must be out, then out it goes! But you must promise not to tell anyone." Pippin and Frodo both promised and then he went on. "Well, I suppose you know the miller's son, Ted-"

"Ted Sandyman did this to you? But how?" Frodo interrupted despite himself. He knew Ted was not one of the most pleasant persons in Hobbiton, but to attack such a genial fellow as Merry seemed downright unhobbitlike.

"He had a friend with him- nastier than even Ted. He went by the name of Ollie. Does that ring any bells?" Frodo thought a moment but shook his head; the name was neither familiar, nor could he think of anyone whose name could be shortened to that.

"Well, then he must not live in Hobbiton or Bywater or else Frodo would know him," remarked Pippin as he rubbed his chin in thought. "Perhaps he's a cousin or a friend of Ted's and came to visit him, just like we are visiting Frodo?"

"I suppose, but he did seem familiar. Ugly blighter that he was," said Merry while kicking a stone into the Water. "He certainly recognized _me_ and seemed to have a vendetta, what's more!"

"But why? You don't even know him," said Pippin. "Besides, you're such a nice chap when you're not trying to strangle your friends or leave them to go spend time with young lady hobbits."

"Don't be so smart," said Merry in response to Pippin's cheeky grin. "I can't help it. Intelligence runs in the family," the other retorted snappily. But Frodo was deep in thought mulling over all the information he'd heard (and hadn't heard, as well).

"So by Pippin's comment, I can safely assume you were with Estella Bolger today?" said Frodo raising a point he knew Merry wouldn't like to address. For better or worse, the lad certainly didn't like to kiss and tell.

"Yes," Merry admitted with some difficulty. "We were feeding ducks at the Bywater Pool. If she hadn't been there, they'd have pummeled me far worse than this."

"I think if she hadn't been there, they wouldn't have pummeled you at all," said Frodo pointedly. "Think about bucks vying over a doe. It's that time of the year when hearts are inflamed. Even hobbits will go a little mad over a lass's affection."

"'When hearts are inflamed'? Sounds rather painful to me," laughed Pippin.

"You're probably right, Frodo," said Merry. "But no matter! Let's forget about my unfortunate story and enjoy the view," he added, gesturing at the star-speckled sky.

"Perhaps we may get an even better view at the Three Farthing Stone," Frodo suggested pointing south, where they could maybe see the large rock if they squinted.

"Oh, what a walk that will be! And my feet are already sore!" cried Pippin. "But aren't we going to do anything about these scoundrels that attacked Merry?"

"No!" shouted Merry. They were quite some distance away from any town or dwelling, walking through a vast field that ran alongside the river, so no one would be able to hear their conversation. "You shall do nothing and say less, as you promised!"

Frodo and Pippin quietly acquiesced, though neither could help but wonder whether justice could be attained somehow. They gave up trying to wheedle more information out of Merry and instead focused on enjoying the cool night air and the lovely sight above. It was a calm and peaceful evening, although occasionally they could hear two brazen reynards fighting over a vixen somewhere in the tall grass. The hobbits smiled at the real example of Frodo's earlier comments on love and aggression in springtime, though none said anything.

"Ah, here we are again," said Frodo as they finally reached the road, although now they were on the  
Great East Road, a broader and older road than the small town roads that connected to it. "Back to the road, we go."

"_Stay off the moors, lads! Keep to the road!_" croaked Pippin imitating Merry's grandfather Rorimac Brandybuck, who used to tell all the young hobbits fantastic and frightening stories in his thick Buckland accent. The particular tale Pippin was quoting told of a great monstrous wolf that stalked two naughty lads who abandoned their chores at home and went adventuring on the moors during a full moon. Suffice it to say, both boys came to a grisly end and it was a rather odd story to tell children, but all who grew up on Old Rory's tales remembered them fondly.

"Fortunately for us, the moon is but a thin crescent tonight," said Frodo gazing at the waning moon, which cast a faint silver light about the road. "We shall remain unscathed for at least another month."

"Unless Pippin engages tall furry strangers on his trip to deliver sweets to his ill grandmother," said Merry darkly as he pulled Pippin's hood over his head, referencing another one of Old Rory's gruesome tales.

"Nonsense! Both of my grannies died before I was born," said Pippin as he climbed up the Three Farthing Stone, at which they had arrived without quite realizing it. "And anyway, I would be the huntsman in this story. Brave and ruggedly handsome!"

He posed dramatically on top of the rock while Merry and Frodo choked with laughter below. After wiping away the tears from their eyes, they climbed up and joined him. Though the rock was no more than eight feet tall, the view on top was magnificent. They could see the Shire stretch for miles on either side: rolling green hills in the South, flatter plains in the North, the Water winding like a silver ribbon from West to East, and little patches of woods scattered here and there. All three fell into a soft silence that matched the calm and easy quiet of their surroundings until they felt as if they'd disappeared into the landscape.

The hobbits were woken out of their reverie by bustling footsteps coming up the road. They lay flat on their stomachs and peered out carefully, making sure not to be seen. Though they didn't know who it was, they knew for certain it was someone larger than a hobbit. To their relief, when the source of the sound stepped under the moonlight, they could see it was no orc or wild-man, but a Dwarf and a worried, hasty-looking one at that.

"Hail Master Dwarf!" called Frodo as he stood up on the rock in a proud but welcoming posture. "What brings you to our sleeping land so late at night?"

The Dwarf jumped in fright at the sudden loud voice that seemed to come from nowhere, but eased up as soon as he turned about and saw the three curious and cheerful hobbits perched upon the rock.

"Young Master Halfling has quite a greeting for strangers in his land," he said in a deep but warm voice. "Nearly jumped out of my skin! I thought perhaps I'd been spotted by an Elf lord or a wizard."

"Our Frodo Baggins, an Elf lord?" "Or a wizard?" Merry and Pippin exchanged disbelieving looks and chuckled at the thought.

"Frodo Baggins, is it? Would you by any chance be related to the famous burglar, Bilbo Baggins?" asked the Dwarf. Now very interested in speaking with him, Frodo climbed down and approached the Dwarf so as not to be shouting at him from high up, which anyone would find discourteous and certainly a Dwarf.

"I am his nephew... well, cousin, really. These two silly fellows are also my cousins, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took," said Frodo gesturing up at Merry and Pippin, who remained on the rock and now pulled out their smoking pipes. "But tell me now about yourself and about Bilbo. How do you know him and have you seen him of late?"

"I am Magan, son of Dagan of the Lonely Mountain," said the Dwarf named Magan, bowing low. "As for your kinsman, I did indeed meet him, but that was once and many years ago. More than a decade ago he came to Dale and paid a visit to the Lonely Mountain, where I had settled some time after the great Battle of the Five Armies. I do not know where he traveled after he left our country, but it was a wise decision that I must follow now."

Magan suddenly grew quiet and after looking about from side to side, he drew closer to Frodo and continued his tale in a hushed whisper.

"The horizon grows dark from nearly all sides. The cruel Easterlings on one side are up to something and orcs on the other are getting bolder all the time. Worse still, I've heard tell of terrible trouble brewing away in the South, in the Black Land of which I dare not speak further.

"For my part, the final straw came most recently when foul messengers from that ghastly place arrived in Dale to ask some questions of the king. I do not know what Brand's response was, but for better or ill I decided I would not be there when we all faced the consequences of that answer."

The hobbits digested this news in silence and felt uneasy at the severity of the situation. Magan continued in a more cheerful tone, "But do not fret. I am sure your Bilbo is fine wherever he is now. He was a sturdy old hobbit when I met him, and I am sure you will meet again. As for myself, I go off to join my kin at the Blue Mountains."

"We thank you for the news and wish you luck in your journey," said Frodo with a polite little bow of the head. Magan nodded in return and started to walk off again, but tracked back and quietly said to Frodo, "I must warn you, that red-hooded one smells of bacon. A Dwarf's nose never lies." Waving at the trio as he headed down the road in truth, he called "Farewell, young halflings! May we meet again in safer times!"

The hobbits waved back and called out farewells, though Pippin secretly sniffed under his arm and grumbled that he couldn't smell anything. Frodo and Merry chuckled but ignored his worries and chose to interpret Magan's comment as Dwarf humor, strange as it is.

The three decided to call it a night and head back to Bag End, crossing through the field as they did before. Pippin hummed the tune to Bilbo's "Walking Song," only bothering to softly sing the line "and then to bed". Where normally Merry would tease him for his laziness, he too felt the pull on his eyelids, having endured a long and tiring day. Only Frodo remained fresh of spirit and urged them not to lag behind lest Old Rory's wolf-beast should get them.

Pippin blew a raspberry at Frodo, but suddenly stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a howl in the distance. The other two stopped as well and exchanged frightened glances. Pippin shook his head as if it couldn't possibly be what they were thinking it was and they all continued walking.

They kept on going without an incident until they were quite close to Bywater, at which point they heard a noise that sounded much nearer than the previous howl. Something was running in the dark behind them and it was getting ever closer. Pippin let out a tiny shriek and hid behind Merry, crying out, "Oh, save me Meriadoc! The Monster is surely coming for me! I left home to go adventuring with you without having cleaned my room and now I will surely be eaten for it!"

"Nonsense, there's no such thing as monsters," said Merry pushing Pippin away, although his shaky voice betrayed his own fear.

Pippin now ran to hide behind Frodo, who did not push him away but only laughed when the "beast" came out into the light. It was the rat-like little dog that belonged to Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. She'd had it specially bred to be small enough to carry around in a purse and named it Darling.

"So it seems we cannot hide from the S.B.'s twice in one night," said Frodo as he bent down to pick up the runaway runt, who was much more charming than her owner and licked Frodo's hands. "I suppose I'll have to return you tomorrow, won't I? I'll have to speak with your awful mummy, I fear."

"There's your big Monster, Pip," laughed Merry as he condescendingly patted Pippin on the shoulder and started walking off again. Yet Pippin remained unnerved and continued to glance back behind him as he followed after his cousins.

His wariness proved to have good cause as one by one, increasingly larger dogs began to run out of yards and follow the group. Lost for words, Pippin only managed to tap Merry on the shoulder and stammer out, "D-d-dogs!"

"Oh, what is it now?" said Merry, frustrated to be bothered when they were so close to home. He turned around only to see Pippin surrounded by seven hungry-looking dogs that were several times bigger than Darling. "Frodo, it would appear we have a situation."

Frodo turned around and blanched with fear, still remembering his days as a vegetable-thieving youth who was chased out of Farmer Maggot's field by his terrifying dogs. Even Lobelia's little pet trembled... although it did that fairly often, even when it wasn't cold or afraid.

Merry decided to take action and use a trick he often played on his own dog at Brandy Hall. He picked up a small branch and shook it at the dogs. "Do you want this? Do you want to catch it? Then go it!" he shouted as he pretended to throw the branch. The trick worked and the dogs ran away into the darkness in search of the branch that wasn't thrown.

"Let's go before they realize I didn't throw anything!" he said as he pulled Pippin up the road.

The three flew with haste they hadn't known half an hour ago, but soon enough the dogs were back on their heels, with new friends joining them. They barked and howled and probably woke up the entire neighborhood, though no one cared to see what was happening outside as the local hobbits deemed it too late an hour for curiosity. The dogs almost had Pippin, who always walked and ran slowest regardless of the urgency of any circumstance, but the hobbits finally reached Bag End and managed to shut the door despite the gaggle of mutts struggling to get in.

They heaved a sigh of relief, hung their cloaks on the wooden pegs by the door, and without many more words made for bed. Merry sat on his bed reading an old genealogy table; it was just the sort of thing that would calm him down and put him to sleep. Pippin was still dressed in his adventuring clothes and was emptying his satchel of its contents, while Darling, who'd crept into the room after them, hopped around on the bed pawing at the bag.

"Aha!" he suddenly cried, waking Merry up just as he had started to doze off.

"What is it? Did the dogs get in?" he said as he jumped up, ready to fly again.

"Only one," said Pippin as he put Darling down on the floor, where she continued to jump and whine. "But I think I know why those dogs were after me!"

He pulled out the last of the bag's contents, which were several fat strips of bacon. He threw the bacon out the door and Darling ran after in a frantic hurry.

"This is Sam paying me back for eating his lunch earlier," said Pippin as he sniffed his bag, which still vaguely smelled of bacon. It would take several intense washings before it would stop attracting local wildlife.

"Well, then it serves you right," said Merry as he slipped into bed. "You should never get in the way of a hobbit and his meal. And anyway, you really ought to treat Sam better than that. Our dear Frodo is changing and one day he'll get the urge to slip away from the Shire once and for all."

"Do you really think so?" asked Pippin as he finally lay down.

"I know it for a fact," said Merry. "Though he doesn't have a plan yet, he will eventually and then we will need Sam to be on our side and keep us in the loop. So if you don't want to lose Frodo forever without so much as 'good bye,' you'll kindly stop stealing his gardener's lunches."

With that he blew out the candle and the two went to sleep. The rest of the week was peaceful and fairly uneventful. The hobbits slept late, dallied about all day eating and smoking, and explored the countryside at night. Thankfully, Pippin left his smelly satchel at home and carried absolute necessities in his pockets.

By Sunday night, Merry and Pippin were packing to visit other parts of the Shire, and though they begged Frodo to come with them, he insisted he had business to see to at home. He promised he'd visit them at Brandy Hall for the Master's 77th birthday party, but they would have to wait at least another month. So with a fond farewell, Merry and Pippin left Frodo at Bag End and headed East for Budgeford.

* * *

_Thanks for reading and, as always, please review if you enjoyed it!_


	4. Brawls in Budgeford

**Shirelings  
**_**  
Chapter 4**_

_**Brawls in Budgeford  
**_**  
**The journey from Hobbiton to Budgeford was a simple and pleasant trek for the cousins, bringing them past peaceful pastures and through young wooded fields. The first night of the trip they walked and talked right into the dawn, and then decided to make camp under the thick roots of an old tree by the Water. Their rest was brief but satisfying and both were up and raring to move on after only a few hours.

The following day they hoofed it vigorously, all the while telling lighthearted jokes and singing old songs- adding their own colorful verses, of course. They were in high spirits despite having little sleep or food under their belts, ever looking forward to seeing Fatty Bolger and his jovial family again. That night they decided to drop some coins at a rather good (but oddly named) inn at Frogmorton and slept in soft beds once again.

After a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs and fried potatoes, they left the Floating Log and continued their eastward trip. It was a cool and comfortable day for long treks, and by mid-day they arrived at the Whitfurrows fork that would lead them off the Great East Road. There they lingered for little less than an hour to enjoy a modest lunch (by hobbit standards, anyway) before turning North to complete their trip.

Within several easy hours, they were crossing the bridge that ran over the Water and strolling through the quaint little streets of Budgeford. The sun was still quite bright when they arrived at the Bolger estate, a large and stately hobbit hole- though a fraction of the size of Bag End or either of the cousins' ancestral homes, of course. As they wandered past the unlocked gate and up the cobbled path, they couldn't help but wonder that the dwelling seemed a bit empty. Normally the windows would be ablaze with light and a cheery plume of smoke could be seen emanating from the chimney; but now all the windows were shut and the chimney seemed quite still.

They knocked on the door, but there came no answer, as was very much expected. Pippin plopped down upon the stoop while Merry began to pace and rub his chin in thought.

"You don't suppose they might have been kidnapped, do you?" Pippin finally suggested.

"Don't be silly, Pip," retorted Merry. "Who would want to kidnap Fatty and his folks?"

"Well, they're quite a bit well off," Pippin went on. "Fatty's pockets are always bursting with coins... that is, when they aren't bursting with pastries."

"Well, that's hardly the case now," came the dejected sigh of none other than their good friend Fatty Bolger. Fatty came trundling up to them looking very much like a sad droopy donkey. The lads quickly rushed over and took turns hugging him and slapping him on the back.

"Why, hello, Fatty! Whatever is the matter?" said Merry giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder that Fatty instinctively shrunk against.

"Dear Fatty, you look quite the sour puss! Has someone stolen a tart from you?" laughed Pippin.

"Oh, indeed! And more," said Fatty melodramatically. "I was at the town Housie game and I was _this_ close to winning the whole pot. But then that sod Ollie Underhill won and now I haven't got enough for a consolatory drink at the pub."

"Why does that name sound so familiar?" said Merry quietly to himself.

"No matter, chum," said Pippin cheerfully. "Merry and I are here now and we can supply you with all the drinks you like. In fact, what's say we get our palates whet right now?"

Pippin wrapped his arms around Merry and Fatty's shoulders and began to lead them toward the gate, but Merry ducked out of the embrace and pulled back towards the house.

"Now that's a terrific idea, Pippin, except that it's very nearly almost time for supper," he said, pulling on Fatty's arm to lead him inside.

Pippin stared at Merry in confusion, but then followed his pointed gaze out at the road and could see the reason Merry would not want to leave the Bolger estate quite yet: just a little past the next residence, Fatty's parents and sister were coming down the lane.

"Oh, I suppose you're right," said Pippin as he helped Merry lead Fatty back towards the door. However Fatty now had other intentions and pulled in the other direction.

"No, no, believe it or not I am actually not hungry right now," said Fatty as his friends made comically exaggerated expressions of disbelief and shock. "I believe I could go for some ale after such a pathetic loss."

"Yes, but you see, _we_ are hungry now after such a long journey," said Pippin as he dragged Fatty back to the door.

"And we can certainly have a drink later," said Merry. "What's the rush?"

Fatty looked from one to the other and then sighed, resigned to the late night drinking plan his friends had decided for him.

"Now, this isn't any fair, you know," he said, folding his arms. "You do promise we'll go at some point tonight, don't you? Perhaps before the sun rises?"

Pippin laughed and rubbed a knuckle in Fatty's hair- a thing Fatty did not find at all amusing. "Of course we'll go, you big loon! And I give you my solemn Took promise that we will stay the entire time, too."

Fatty scowled at the memory of their previous outing, when Merry and Pippin thought it would be a hilarious prank to leave him alone at the local tavern after he'd had a few too many drinks.

"You should feel exceptionally bad knowing that poor Estella had to come fetch me the next morning," he scolded them.

"Speak of the devil, hush up now," said Merry as he straightened out his jacket in time for Estella and the Bolger parents to come walking through the gate.

"Why, Freddy dear, why didn't you tell us that you were expecting guests tonight?" said his mother, Rosamunda, a rather plump and pleasant looking hobbit. "Had you said anything, I would have prepared a finer dinner, don't you know."

"What she means is, had she known, she would have wore something silly and garish and much too 'fashionable' for my tastes," said Fatty's father, Odovacar, a jolly looking gentle-hobbit with a receding hairline. "Good to see you, lads," he added, clapping Merry and Pippin across the backs, before unlocking the door and heading inside.

Rosamunda snorted at her husband's teasing and shortly proceeded to pinching Merry and Pippin's cheeks. The two endured the brief torture with brave smiles before she too entered the dwelling, announcing that dinner would be ready within half an hour.

Fatty and Pippin quickly rushed in afterward, but Merry lingered outside to give a proper greeting to Estella. Estella smiled but pulled away as he tried to embrace her.

"Merry, not now," she said warningly. "You know what might happen if my parents found out."

"They'd pinch my cheeks some more and welcome me into the family?" he said playfully.

"Hardly, I'm sure," said Estella as she peeked into the doorway to make sure no one was spying on them. "They'd cut you off from me quicker than you can say 'barricaded windows.'"

"First of all, I really can't believe your parents could harbor such an animosity towards me," said Merry shutting the door and taking Estella's hands. "And second, even if they did disapprove, nothing could keep me away from you. Not barricaded windows, not a moat filled with boiling oil."

Estella laughed and then touched Merry's cheek gently. "All the same, I would prefer if you could behave yourself while you stay. Let's not let them find out just yet."

"Oh fine," said Merry with an exasperated sigh. "But can I at least get a kiss? A small one? While no one is looking?"

Estella looked about to make sure there was indeed no one watching them- and there wasn't. She gave him a quick, disappointing peck and then opened the door.

"And don't let Fatty know, either," she hissed as she went inside.

"I'm just so terribly afraid of what Fatty will do," he grumbled as he rolled his eyes and followed after her.

* * *

The company of hobbits sat at a round table loaded with a colorful plethora of mouth-watering dishes, some hot and steaming, others cool and fresh, but all contributing to the heavenly scent that filled the dining room. The Bolgers listened and laughed as their guests regaled them with tales of their many amusing adventures. Presently Pippin was enthusiastically telling the story that explained why they all preferred the Green Dragon to its neighboring inn, the Ivy Bush.

"-so I turned to him and said as kindly as possible, 'Would you please tell your grandfather not to spit in my ale?' And do you know what the barkeep said?" he asked the table as he stood up and placed his hands on his hips.

Fatty covered his mouth to hide his snickering, as he knew how the story ended. Estella simply shook her head, having also heard the tale a substantial number of times. Their parents, however, listened intently and shook their heads in response to the rhetorical question.

"Well, he turned a most unflattering shade of violet and said..." And at this point, Pippin put on a rather exaggerated West Farthing accent. "'That ain't my grandfather, boy-o; that there be my wife!'"

The room erupted into laughter and Pippin pretended to fall over, only to climb onto his seat and bow dramatically. Merry pulled him down, although he too was still laughing quite hard.

"Suffice it to say, we have been barred from that fine establishment ever since," he added, capping the story with its moral.

"You boys do tell fine stories," said Rosamunda wiping her eyes. "Though I'm rather happy Freddy isn't often included in them."

"Oh, pish posh, they're just being polite," said Fatty with a laugh. "I'm sure if they were in different company, they'd be telling all sorts of wonderful stories where I embarrass myself in some way or another."

"Now that isn't true, either!" said Pippin after taking a hearty swig of cider. "We wouldn't want to bore any party with stories about you, _Freddy_."

Fatty feigned offense at first, but quickly joined the rest in laughter at the joke. A full stomach would improve any hobbit's mood and especially one as enamored with eating as Fatty.

"I'm afraid I'll have to agree with my wife," began Odovacar. "Entertaining as your adventures are, lads, I'm a trifle pleased our Freddy doesn't get in nearly as much trouble as your fathers tell us you do."

Merry and Pippin continued to smile, but not without the hint of annoyance that their fathers should complain about them in their correspondence with Odovacar, old friend though he might be.

"Fredegar is getting at that age where a reputation of mischief and tomfoolery is not quite so becoming. An age where one seeks to settle down with a comely lass and move out from his parents' home," Odovacar said this pointedly to Fatty who pretended to be terribly intrigued by the mountain of mashed potatoes on his plate.

Merry took a large and unfortunately loud bite of his buttered toast while Pippin chuckled as he shoveled a spoonful of peas into his mouth- just in time for the older Bolgers to turn their attention back upon their guests.

"And I don't suppose you boys have had any thoughts about trading in your adventures for brides?" said Rosamunda inquisitively.

Merry and Pippin nearly spat out what they'd been chewing, but managed to contain themselves. Pippin only let a stray pea escape from his left nostril, which he quickly covered with his mug.

"Surely you jest!" he exclaimed after finally swallowing. "I'm only twenty-seven! I still have a long many years of lollygagging before that's even acceptable."

"That's fair. But now you, Merry," said Rosamunda as she turned to the older cousin, who, at 35 was well within the marrying age. "You are no tweenager. Surely you are beginning to tire of this philandering?"

"Now, now, Rosa. Let's not jump to conclusions, here," interrupted her husband. "Just because the boy hasn't announced a wedding yet, doesn't mean he hasn't got it on the mind."

Merry looked nervously from Odovacar, who seemed to know more than he was admitting, to Estella, who looked just as confounded as Merry felt.

"No, dear, I think Merry has a special lass that he just doesn't like telling us about," the older Bolger went on, wrapping an arm around Merry, whose ruddy complexion became more sanguine by the second.

Estella began to cough rather violently and Rosamunda filled her a glass of fresh water while Fatty clapped her hard on the back.

"How do you figure that, sir?" said Merry in an uncharacteristically meek tone.

"Well, how do you think? Your father's written me an ear-full about how you write all those letters you're so secretive about." Turning to his wife, he continued, "Why else would he be so careful about writing letters and hiding them from his family, hmm?"

Merry's slight annoyance at his father's gossipy correspondence was turning into utter frustration, to know that he shared secrets and made up theories about his personal, _private_ matters. Matters he didn't even divulge to Pippin, his closest friend and practically his brother.

Pippin, however, was not at all affronted and found the whole situation quite entertaining. "Merry, you never told me you wrote _love letters_! I bet they're all sorts of horrible, florid prose," he said laughing.

"I'm sure they're not!" exclaimed Estella, unable to contain herself, having been the recipient of what she thought were very sweet and thoughtful letters.

"How would you know?" snapped Merry in an accidentally rude tone as he shot her a very specific look.

"I wouldn't!" Estella quickly stammered, understanding the gist of his look. "I would have absolutely no idea. Really!"

"Well, that's too bad," sighed Rosamunda. "I was hoping you'd take an interest in our little Estella."

"You were?" sputtered Merry, feeling very confused and just a little bit hopeful. Estella gave him a swift kick under the table.

"I mean, of course not," he went on, having woken up a bit from the kick. "Ugh, I would never! What? Estella? Why, she's... she's... she's..."

He stared from a horrified Estella to her bewildered parents to Fatty and Pippin who looked rightfully amused at his fumbling and then back to Estella, until he thought he found the right words, even if he didn't believe what he was saying.

"She's like a sister to me?"

Estella nodded slightly in approval while her parents shrugged and went back to eating. He let out a breath of relief and started to eat again, as well.

"It's still a pity, all the same," said Rosamunda suddenly. "I'd much rather have you for a son-in-law than any of those local rascals that keep following her around town. My, if you'd only see the line of suitors, you'd surely faint!"

Had a moment of dramatic silence ensued, it wouldn't have been half as awkward as the mundane sounds of eating and casual dinner chatter that actually followed. Only Merry and Estella sat quietly, as the former glared holes into the latter and she returned the glare with a pleading look, begging him not to make a scene. Ever the tactful hobbit, Merry excused himself from the table without a fuss.

"Dinner was remarkably good, but now I am quite full," he said calmly and pleasantly as he stood up. "I hope you will not mind if I take my evening smoke now, even if it is a little early."

"Heavens, by all means," said Odovacar, not noticing how overly cordial Merry's speech was.

"But won't you be joining us for dessert?" said Rosamunda sounding slightly disappointed. "I made my special treacle and Estella baked a splendid pound cake."

"No, no, quite full," said Merry as he patted his stomach and backed out of the room. "Freddy, Pip: I'll meet you at the Budgie's Crown in a little while."

"That means more treacle for me!" called Pippin with a wave as Merry headed down the hallway towards the yard.

He followed the winding path until he'd come to the back of the house and stepped out into the cool evening air. And evening though it was, at well past 6 PM, the sun was still setting when he found himself storming through the garden. The lovely effect of the sunset on the flowers made it in fact somewhat difficult for Merry to storm or huff or stomp, so instead he did as he said he would and pulled out his pipe.

As he began to puff away while angrily contemplating a particularly picturesque bush of begonias, he heard the door creak somewhere behind him and turned around to see Estella joining him in the garden. He looked down and pretended to study one of the pink blossoms while she approached him slowly and sheepishly.

"I'm sure you think you can explain it all away," he said quietly once she was standing next to him. "I'm sure you think you have a very good reason for doing what you've done. And, well... you ought to, frankly!"

"I'm sorry," said Estella with her head down. Merry kept his head down, as well.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I haven't got a very good reason," she continued, leading Merry to jerk his head up and stare at her.

"What do you mean, you 'haven't got a very good reason'?" he said loudly, his temper finally revealing itself. "Do you mean to say you've just been having a nice game with me all this time? That there hasn't been a point to any of this?"

"I didn't say that," said Estella, attempting to maintain her composure. "I just mean that I can't quite explain why I did any of that. Not yet."

"Oh, not yet! That's very helpful, thanks!" said Merry as he began to pace about the garden.

"Merry, please! Try to calm down," said Estella as she clutched at his arm. "I know it seems horrible, but it's really not as bad as you think."

"Not as bad as you toying with my feelings?" Merry shouted as he wrenched out of her grip. "Telling me your parents can't stand the thought of us together. Now give me the truth: it's _you_ that can't stand us together, isn't it?"

"That isn't it at all and I do wish you would hush up," hissed Estella, who was beginning to reveal her own frustration with the argument. "Someone might hear!"

"Who is going to hear?" said Merry spinning about in the large empty garden and pointing at the patch of woods that sat beyond the fence. "Or maybe someone from your '_line of suitors_' is hiding there in a tree. Wouldn't want Mr. So-and-So hearing you quarrel with Lover Number 34. Or perhaps I don't warrant a number so high up on the list? What number am I?"

"You're being terribly unfair!" cried Estella, tears welling in her eyes. "Just because I haven't given you every detail of my personal affairs does not give you the right to abuse me so!"

"I'm being unfair? _I'm _being unfair?" laughed Merry sardonically. "After all I've heard, you give me nothing insofar as an explanation, and then you act surprised that I become a little cross!"

"A little cross? You're screaming at me over practically nothing," said Estella, now shouting just as loudly as Merry. "I'd hate to see you if you were actually angry, then!"

With that Estella turned about face and began to march back towards the house. Merry stared at her as she left, dumbfounded and still quite livid.

"You can't get mad at me when I'm the one that's been double-crossed!" he shouted after her.

"Go ahead and watch me!" she called back without so much as a glance.

"Oh, that's fine, Estella! That's fantastic!" he said as she reached the door. "Well, luckily for you Number 34 is now done! Do you hear? I'm finished!"

She slammed the door shut loudly and he threw his pipe against an obnoxiously perky-looking cherry tree. He stood in place breathing heavily for a moment and then went over to pick up his pipe. After wiping it off and pocketing it, he made up his mind to go for a walk and left the Bolger property.

Just then the curtains were drawn from one of the windows and Fatty and Pippin popped their heads out, having heard most of the previous conversation.

"Do you think we ought to tell him just how much my mother was exaggerating?" Fatty asked Pippin, who took a moment to contemplate the question.

"Perhaps we should... but perhaps we might wait until he is in a better state of mind," said Pippin very carefully. "Lest we find ourselves receiving the brunt of his tantrum," he continued as he climbed out the window.

"Or his blows," added Fatty as he followed suit.

"That's what I meant," said Pippin, rolling his eyes.

They began to walk up the path that lead around the house and out the gate. Fatty stopped and rubbed his chin in thought.

"What if we got him very, very drunk?" mused Fatty out loud. Pippin clapped his hand to his forehead.

"That, too, was meant to be obvious," said Pippin as he pulled Fatty out the gate and down the road.

* * *

The sign hanging from the building's awning told Pippin they'd arrived at the Budgie's Crown, the town's only tavern: there was an image of a bright greenish-yellow bird with a playful little golden crown painted upon it.

"I still think that's the worst pun I've ever heard of," remarked Pippin as they entered the crowded establishment. "And I rather like puns."

"And I think it's clever," said Fatty while looking around to spot Merry. "Not only does it make reference to Budgeford, but it plays on the proper name of a budgie's forehead, that is, _the crown_."

Pippin stopped in his tracks to stare at his friend in amused bewilderment.

"'Proper name'? Fatty, when have you ever seen a real budgie?" he asked, cocking his head slightly.

"I'll have you know Filibert Bolger, my second cousin once removed, brought Estella and me a pair of budgies when he went on his honeymoon with his wife Poppy," said Fatty looking quite proud.

"Oh, that's rather nice. Where did they go?" said Pippin, genuinely intrigued.

"Some awful far-away place way South of things," said Fatty with a shudder. "Poor Poppy said it was terribly humid and her hair turned into a giant ball of fluff."

"Well, short of that hair-raising problem, I think it sounds exciting," said Pippin, chuckling at what he thought to be a successful pun. Fatty rolled his eyes.

"All the same, I'm glad it was them that went and not me," he said as he returned to scanning the room. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he pointed. "Speaking of distant relations, there's Merry now."

Pippin followed Fatty's gaze and found Merry sitting alone in a darkened corner, flanked by several large empty flagons. He clung to an almost empty mug of ale and stared morosely into its depths. Pippin and Fatty joined him at the table after meandering their way through the packed room.

"And how are we doing at table number 34?" said Pippin with a grin, hoping Merry was already too far gone to pull a swing at him.

"Ah, sod off," slurred Merry. Pippin smirked at Fatty and sat down, knowing his cousin was now more or less harmless. He almost never got in a fight when he was this inebriated... almost.

"But really Merry- how are you feeling?" said Pippin as he patted Merry's shoulder.

"Like I've been trampled by a pack of trolls and turned into a fine paste," said Merry after downing the last bit of drink he had.

"A fine _angry_ paste or a fine_ sad_ paste?" said Fatty with not some little amount of uncertainty as he remained standing. Merry moaned and planted his head into the hard wooden table. Pippin turned to Fatty and silently mouthed, "Sad paste."

The two nodded and pulled Merry up into a proper seated position. Pippin examined Merry's red forehead and clucked in disapproval. Fatty finally sat down and Merry fell onto him sideways, leaning on his shoulder in a pathetic state of drunken depression.

"Now this is just absurd!" cried Fatty in discomfort as he tried in vain to push Merry off.

"I wholeheartedly agree," said Pippin as he snapped his fingers at a rather buxom waitress who pretended not to notice. "Merry, how could you come here and have so much to drink without waiting for us? And how has this waitress not come over yet?"

He stood up and walked up to the waitress, tapping her on the shoulder now. She turned around and sighed much too greatly. "Aye, what'll you be having, then?" she finally said.

"See what my friend has over there?" said Pippin pointing at Merry's little table with its now four empty mugs. "Double that."

The waitress stared at him blankly.

"Eight more ales, please. Thanks very much, Miss," said Pippin smiling brightly as the waitress rolled her eyes and headed off to get their drinks. He sat back down and pulled Merry off of Fatty (much to his relief) to drape his limp arm around his shoulder.

"You see, that is how you talk to a lady," he said to Merry, whose unfocused gaze was sharpening into a glare. "No shouting, no threats- just nice and easy, there you go."

"What do you know about talking to ladies?" said Merry as his loose arm began to lock around Pippin's neck. Fatty sensed that an unwelcome wrestling match could start up very soon and decided to speak up.

"Only that my mother doesn't quite know what she's saying all the time," he said quickly while prying Merry's arm off of Pippin. "She sees some bold lad following Estella around or simply outright flirting and assumes it's a new courtship. It doesn't mean anything, though."

"Right, but if it doesn't mean anything, why should Estella have such a hard time telling me about it?" said Merry after finally releasing his grip on Pippin, who gasped wildly for air before clearing his throat.

"Well, come on, Merry," he said with effort. "Do you tell her about every lass that winks at you? Or more importantly, every lass that _you_ wink at?"

Merry mulled this over in silence just as the pretty waitress came over with all of their drinks in tow. As she placed them on the table, all three fellows grinned broadly at her. She shook her head and disappeared when another table called her over. Pippin raised his eyebrows and his arms in a gesture that said, "You see?"

"I suppose you're right," said Merry as he reached for one of the drinks, only to have his hand slapped away by both friends at the same time. "All right, fine! I'll be thirsty then. But I still don't understand why she's so against telling your parents. Did you hear how they were going on? Practically begging me to go after her."

Fatty shrugged as he took a small sip of his ale; Pippin, meanwhile, had already finished his first mug and was moving onto his second.

"Do you think I can decipher all the nonsensical things my sister does?" said Fatty. "This might just be something you need to sort out with her... without having a screaming match, mind you."

Merry chuckled while scratching the back of his neck. "Suppose I ought to apologize for that then, eh?" he said with a sheepish half-smile.

"Yes, and while you're at it, maybe apologize for not telling me you fancied my sister?" said Fatty as Merry began to blush furiously. "I'd strike you such a blow if I weren't a pacifist!"

"Pacifist, eh?" chuckled Pippin. "Is that the 'proper name' for a pansy, now?"

"Come off it!" snapped Fatty half-playfully and half-offended. Pippin punched him gently on the shoulder and in return Fatty hit him somewhat harder back.

"Is that a challenge, Mr. Pansy?" cried Pippin gleefully as he punched Fatty on the shoulder in earnest. Fatty winced and rubbed the spot before pulling back and accidentally landing a surprisingly solid blow into Merry's arm.

"Oh, you did not want to do that!" shouted Merry as he rammed into Fatty's side, causing both of them to tumble off their chairs. Pippin whooped with laughter as the two grappled on the floor, appearing for all the world as two of the silliest and least graceful brawlers to ever get into fisticuffs over nothing. A small crowd quickly surrounded them and Pippin hazily realized that this could lead to actual trouble.

"All right, all right, that's more than enough," he said as he laboriously pulled them apart. "Don't want to get us barred from this inn, too, now do we?"

Merry and Fatty climbed back onto their seats and the disappointed crowd dispersed immediately.

"Good match, eh?" said Merry grinning at Fatty who let loose a high jittery laugh. He wasn't used to getting into fights and in fact preferred wheedling his way out of situations that seemed to be heading in a rough direction, but he had to admit to himself that it had been an exhilarating two and a half minutes.

Just as they began to settle down, they suddenly heard harsh laughter from a few tables over.

"Always knew that Bolger was a cowardly lard," jeered a cruel voice. "Never reckoned him a poof, though!"

"Muckin' about like that in public," came another voice. "Downright disgraceful, it is."

Pippin turned around to glare at his friend's bullies, but could not find the source of the taunting as whoever it was had gone silent and he was faced with a sea of backs of heads. He looked at Fatty who only gazed into the depths of his ale, silenced by his humiliation.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked. "You shouldn't put up with that sort of thing! Not from anyone that's not us, that is."

But Fatty only shrugged and continued to look downwards into his mug. "There isn't any use," he sighed. "It's best to just ignore it."

"Who was that?" said Merry, screwing up his face in thought. "The first one sounded terribly familiar."

"They're just local goons," said Fatty after finally taking a gulp of his lonely drink. "Ollie Underhill and Roger Goodbody. I told you about Ollie before- he's the sod that beat me at Housie earlier. Took all my rightful winnings."

"Look at him, sittin' there lookin' like a great ponce!" "What's he drinkin' there? Lemonade?"

Fatty sighed angrily at the barrage of insults but remained silent. Pippin, however, stood up and found the offending duo, two ugly blokes sitting a couple of tables over, laughing and pointing at his embarrassed friend.

"Oi!" he called out, having spotted them. "Why don't you two leave him alone? He hasn't even done anything to you!"

"Pippin, don't!" cried Fatty as he frantically attempted to pull him back down to his seat. "You'll only make it worse!"

But Pippin remained standing and now Merry joined him, as well. "Pippin's right," he said as he stood up. "No friend of ours will be so mistreated while we're around to stop it."

"You lot better stop it, before-" Merry cut himself off as one of the rude hobbits turned around and a horrible wave of recognition swept over him. Fatty's Ollie Underhill was the very same one who'd harassed him and Estella more than a week ago when they were in Hobbiton!

"I know you, you rotten goblin-faced mongrel!" he cried as he tried to lunge at him, only to have Pippin and Fatty hold him back.

"Such ugly words from a fop dressed so pretty!" sneered Ollie. "Why don't you come say that to my face, then, Brandybuck?"

"And why don't you boys take this out of my bar?" said the well-endowed waitress from before. She came striding out from the kitchen and it dawned on Pippin that she wasn't a waitress at all, but the tavern's proprietress.

"Now, Cherry, Darlin'," said Ollie, changing his demeanor to one oozing charm and flattery. "There ain't no need for that. We're just havin' a laugh."

"Laugh or no, I'd prefer you take it outside rather than wreck the place," she said as two burly cooks stepped out of the kitchen to join her. Ollie stared from her to Merry to the glowering cooks and then shook his head, smiling an extremely forced smile.

"Whatever you say, Darlin'," he said as he dropped some money on the table and began to leave with his friend in tow. He turned to Merry and pointed, adding, "I'll be out there waitin' for you, Brandybuck."

He disappeared out of the tavern, but Roger stopped and added, "Don't make us wait too long, mate. I reckon it's gettin' right chilly out there, you know?"

"I'll take that one on," said Fatty quietly as he watched Roger exit.

"Don't you think three against two is a little unfair?" said Pippin as he cracked his knuckles, preparing for what he assumed would be a quick fight.

"Not if their friend Tibs joins them," said Fatty, not noticing that Merry was behind them gulping down the rest of his untouched drinks. "He's never far when those two take to a brawl of any sort."

"'Tibs', eh?" said Pippin. "Doesn't sound too menacing. I think I can handle him."

Fatty laughed and shook his head. "Well, best of luck to you, then. And to us all." He turned to Merry who was still guzzling the remaining ale. "Merry, you started this. Now do you mind?"

"Just a bit of liquid courage," said Merry as he slammed the empty flagon down. "And now I'm ready!"

As the three crossed the room, Pippin turned and called out, "Won't you wish us luck, good hobbits of Budgeford?" The crowd responded with a resounding chorus of "Bah!" as the drinkers waved at them to hurry up and leave.

"I'll buy you all drinks if we win!" he added quickly, which led to the room cheering and wishing them a speedy victory. "That's more like it," he laughed as he followed the other two out the door.

Outside all was still and quiet, save for the chirping crickets and the shuffling of their opponents' feet as they smoked their pipes. Ollie came up to Merry with a mean smirk on his face and emptied his pipe on Merry's foot. Merry leaped at him and the two instantly fell to swings.

Fatty walked over to Roger, who continued to smoke a while longer, and said, "I'm afraid it'll have to be between us-"

His pleasantries were cut short by a rude punch to the face from Roger. Fatty tumbled to the ground, wincing in pain as he watched his rival casually and slowly put away his pipe. It came to Roger as a great surprise when Fatty jumped up to his feet and tackled him in a surprisingly swift motion.

Only Pippin remained unharmed and a little bored while his friends pummeled their enemies. He looked around wondering where this little fellow 'Tibs' would be. Perhaps the hobbit saw him step out of the inn, grew fearful, and ran off. Pippin chuckled and thought to himself, 'Well, I am a thoroughly imposing chap. Perhaps I ought to lend Fatty a hand?'

As he mused to himself, the nearby outhouse door swung open and a dark massive figure squeezed out of the narrow exit. It stepped into the moonlight and Pippin gasped to see the largest hobbit he'd ever laid eyes upon. He must have been roughly 4 feet and 4 inches, just an inch shy of the legendary Bandobras Took, a giant among hobbits. He lumbered over to Ollie, whose face was being shoved into a pile of mud by Merry as he sat on him.

"Nice to see you join us, Tibs," sputtered Ollie as he kicked Merry off and managed to get up for a moment. "You can take care of the skinny one over there," he added, pointing at Pippin, before Merry seized him into a vicious headlock.

Pippin's eyes widened in horror as the humongous hobbit turned to face him. "_You_ are Tibs? But you don't look like a Tibs!" he cried as Tibs began to approach him.

"Only my friends call me that," came the deep rumble of a reply. "You can call me Mr. Thudfoot."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Thudfoot," Pippin yammered as he backed away into a wall. "And you can call me Mr. Took. I come from a very wealthy family, you know, so I don't see why we can't find a peaceful solution to our-"

Tibs didn't give Pippin the chance to finish as he lifted him high over his head and tossed him into a patch of bushes.

Fatty watched Pippin go sailing into the foliage with a high-pitched shriek, turned to Roger, whose head he was banging into the side of a tree, and said, "Suppose I should have warned him that your friend isn't from these parts?"

"Aye, probably," said Roger before jamming a sharp elbow into Fatty's gut, causing him to let go and stumble backwards.

Meanwhile Pippin stumbled out of the bushes in a daze and brushed off his breeches. "I'm quite all right! No need to worry about me," he announced. Pulling a leaf out of his hair he looked around and found Tibs to be leaning against the rickety outhouse, picking the wax out of his ear and observing the fight without paying him any notice.

"Right then. Back to it!" he said to himself with a snap of the fingers. He crept over to the outhouse, silent as a mouse, and climbed up a sturdy little tree that leaned over it. He stepped onto the roof of the outhouse and after taking a deep breath, jumped onto the giant foe's back with a wild shout of "For Tuckborough!"

The larger hobbit shouted in surprise and pain as Pippin hung around his neck and boxed his ears. He bucked and staggered about, attempting to wrench his small assailant off, but only managed to trip over Merry and Ollie as they wrestled on the ground. Tibs went tumbling down onto the ground and hit his head upon a large flower pot, thus shattering the pot and losing his own consciousness in the process. Pippin remained sitting on top of his fallen adversary and decided to have a bit of a relaxing smoke while he waited for his comrades to finish up.

Merry and Ollie continued to grapple on the ground while exchanging insults when suddenly two young children approached the scene. The older was a girl about fifteen or sixteen and the younger was a boy several years younger; he seemed thoroughly more excited by the rumpus than his sister, who tapped her foot impatiently. She cleared her throat loudly and Merry and Ollie finally paused to look up.

"Mum says to stop foolin' around and come home immediately," she proclaimed. "She means it, Ollie. She made me bring a switch." The girl produced a thin wooden rod and brandished it threateningly.

"Bloody hell, Tilly! Can't you see I'm in the middle of somethin'?" said Ollie from underneath Merry, who stared at the children feeling rather awkward and wondered whether or not to get up.

"Can I help?" said the younger brother. "I've always wanted to get in a bar fight! I can get that scrawny one," he added, pointing at Pippin.

"That's fine, thank you," said Pippin waving his hand dismissively.

"Don't you even think about it, Toddy!" cried Tilly as she lightly struck her younger brother upon the shoulder with the switch.

"Ow! I was only jokin'!" said Toddy as he pulled back cringing.

Ollie had enough and pushed Merry off, which took little effort considering Merry had already lost much of his fighting spirit. He limped over to Roger, who was engaged in a pathetic slapping match with Fatty, and patted him on the back.

"Let's call it a night, mate," he said as he pulled him away. Roger acquiesced and began to leave, but not before Fatty gave him one last kick in the bottom. Roger glared at Fatty and made a very rude gesture, before turning away and heading for the road.

Ollie let his siblings lead them off, but briefly stopped to look back and give Merry one last nasty smirk.

"This ain't the last time, Brandybuck," he called out. "I'm not done with you by a long shot."

"Yes, well, I'm hardly done with you either, Underhill!" shouted Merry as he rose to his feet. But by then they'd all disappeared around the bend. He exhaled roughly and kicked at the ground as Pippin and Fatty came over to join him.

"That went rather well, didn't it?" said Pippin cheerfully.

"Well, I can't speak for all of us, but I'm certainly proud with myself," said Fatty rubbing his tender jaw. "I stayed on my feet nearly the entire time. That's a new record."

"Oh, yes, so proud. It isn't as if you had to fight a half-troll or anything," said Pippin sarcastically. "How very nice of you to avoid mentioning that little detail to me."

"You handled yourself well enough, though," said Fatty gesturing at Tibs, who remained on the ground, unconscious as ever.

"Speaking of which, didn't you say you would treat the entire inn to drinks if you won?" said Merry, wrapping his arm around Pippin.

"I said if 'we' won and we didn't, did we? It was more or less a draw," said Pippin. "By the way, you're bleeding on me."

Merry felt his nose and wiped away the blood, chuckling. Fatty took the moment to spit out a tooth. Merry and Pippin stared at him in alarm, but he shrugged his shoulders and laughed.

"I don't think I needed that one, anyway," he said before opening his mouth to reveal an empty spot way in the back of his lower gum. They all laughed and started to limp home, going over each one of their battles and describing how well they did.

They were soon coming up to the Bolger residence and Fatty began to undo the gate latch. Suddenly there came a whistle from down the lane and they turned to see Ollie again, this time standing by himself.

"What do you want now?" said Fatty, exhausted and quite frustrated at this point.

"Not much, Bolger," called Ollie in his usual mocking tone. "Just tell your sister I said 'Hello'!"

And with that he disappeared back from whence he came and Fatty huffed in annoyance before returning to the latch. He opened the gate and let his guests pass through ahead of him. Merry, however, was unsettled and stopped in front of Fatty, blocking off the way.

"What did he mean by that?" he asked. "Does he know Estella?"

"Know her?" said Fatty as he went around Merry. "He's one of those fellows that comes onto her all the time. Biggest fan, as a matter of fact."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?" said Merry panicking now. "Actually, why didn't _she_ tell me that before? He harassed us in Hobbiton and she just pretended not to know him!"

"Oh, I'm sure it isn't anything," said Fatty, realizing he'd made an unfortunate blunder. "You mustn't get upset again, Merry!"

But Merry was well past upset and was fuming all over again. He went storming into the house and Fatty ran after him, begging him to calm down. Pippin sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets, realizing that there was little to do at this point but try to get a good night's rest. As he did so, he found a strange little folded piece of paper in his right pocket. He pulled it apart and laughed as he read it.

"Diamond Took, Great Northern Smials, Smials Hill, Long Cleeve, North Farthing," he said out loud with a huge grin. "Cheeky thing left me her calling card and I had no idea. Well, we'll see if I don't pay her back with a different sort of surprise."

He entered the house and came upon Estella pressing a cold rag to Fatty's bruised and somewhat swollen jaw.

"Your cousin is a terrible fool," she muttered, visibly agitated. "He's in the guest room we set up for you both, sulking like a great child."

"Never mind Merry," said Pippin, still grinning broadly. "What's important now is that we find some paper, a pen, and ink. I have a formal invitation to write!"

* * *

_Thanks for reading and kindly leave a review letting me know what you thought of it! I appreciate and warmly welcome any sort of constructive feedback! _


	5. The Brandy Hall Birthday Ball: Part 1

**Shirelings**

**Chapter 5**

_**The Brandy Hall Birthday Ball: Part 1**_

The Master of Buckland's seventy-seventh birthday happened to fall on a balmy June day and by early evening nearly all the preparations were in place. The party tents had been set up in the field just outside of Brandy Hall hours ago. The tables were properly arranged with all the invitees' name-cards placed upon their designated seats. The Brandybuck matrons tended to the massive quantity of food that was just about ready, while their husbands rolled in barrels of ale (and took tiny surreptitious sips, of course). Festive streamers hung about the edges of the tents, lush flower arrangements lined the perimeter, and lanterns of bright and varied colors were already lit despite the sun not being quite gone yet. Even the band had arrived and were setting up their instruments on a little platform that had been built just for the occasion. The only thing that was presently missing from the party was the guests.

The invitations had stated that the party would start at nightfall, though Merry, who had been forced by his parents to pen the invitations, was shocked that so many of their friends and relatives would take it quite so literally. There was only one invited family that had arrived so far and they'd come a week early, being that their one and only son, Pippin, was already there gallivanting with his best friend. So instead of waiting idly, Merry, Pippin, and the other younger hobbits took to the empty field beyond the party area and arranged a ball game that was not uncommon in most parts of the Shire.

Merry and his male Brandybuck cousins, Berilac, Doderic, Ilberic, and Merimas made up the one team, while Pippin was forced to play with his one unmarried sister, Pervinca, and the Brandybuck girls, Celandine, Mentha, and Melilot. Both Berilac and Pippin had volunteered to guard their teams' respective goals; though Berilac had done so due to his great skill and experience as goalkeeper, while Pippin, on the other hand, simply did not want to run around. Fortunately for him, his sister was rather athletic and managed to keep the ball away from their goal, allowing Pippin to daydream and gaze at anything but the game's action.

As he stared out into space, lost in thought, his focus suddenly shifted from the purplish-orange hue of the dusky sky to the road that ran along the field and headed towards Brandy Hall. There he spied several carriages and wagons approaching, and he knew the frightfully dull game would be replaced with a lively party soon enough. While wondering about who was in the carriages, Pippin managed to let slip the first ball that had gotten past Pervinca, much to his teammates' chagrin.

"Now, Pip, you're not even trying," laughed Merry as he did a little victory jig, having kicked in the first goal of the evening.

"I can't help it if we Tooks are naturally unsuited for this sport, if you even want to call it that," said Pippin, picking up the large leather ball. "Now _golf_, there's a game I can get behind."

"Oh, is that so?" said Pervinca rolling her eyes as she came up to the edge of the goal box. "If we are so 'naturally unsuited' for footie, why am I so good at it?"

"Well, clearly, you're not as Tookish as I," proclaimed Pippin. "You must get it from Mum's side of the family."

"Why, you impertinent little prat," said Pervinca, her eyes ablaze and a dangerous smile gradually forming. "You'd better hush up and throw that ball back before I stand you on your head and show everyone who is really the more Tookish one here."

Pippin knew she could do it, having been wrestled by his sisters into humiliating and somewhat traumatic dress-up games as a child more times than he was comfortable admitting. Still, he was a (nearly) fully grown hobbit and wasn't going to take any more of her guff. He slowly raised the ball high in the air and then suddenly spun to the side and threw it far off towards the road. Everyone groaned and Pervinca threw her hand to her forehead in aggravation.

"Oh, clumsy me," sang Pippin. "Not to worry, I'll go fetch it right back!"

As he trotted off after the ball, he flashed a cheeky grin at his sister, who grumbled and shook her fist halfheartedly. Ilberic rubbed Pervinca's shoulder in an effort to placate her, but she shrugged him off and went to talk strategies with the rest of her teammates.

Pippin stopped at the fence and lingered even after finding the ball; he scanned the crowd of hobbits climbing out of their wagons and heading for the party to see if he recognized anyone. Most were older and none too familiar looking, but when he spotted one particular mess of curls, his face lit up and he dropped the ball to wave.

"Hello there! Mundee! I said _he-llo_!" he called out while flailing his arms a bit too excitedly. His ludicrous performance caught the attention of Mundee as well as the rest of her family. Her father glared at Pippin but begrudgingly allowed her to go off and greet him. She dashed over, followed by a young lad that Pippin presumed to be her brother.

"Make a bigger fuss, why don't you!" she laughed. "They couldn't hear you in the Far Downs!"

"That's fine, then, because I was only aiming for the White Downs," said Pippin, going along with the joke. "So I take it you received my letter then?"

"No, I don't think I have," said Mundee slowly as she wracked her memory trying to remember if she'd gotten anything in the mail recently. Then suddenly she snorted and shoved his shoulder. "Go on! You sent me a letter? What was it about?"

"Oh, not much," said Pippin as his eye wandered back to her father, who continued to give him a nasty look. Pippin gulped as he saw him pull out a small envelope from his chest pocket, tap it menacingly, and slowly put it away. "Has your father said anything about me recently?"

"No, why would he?" asked Mundee, raising an eyebrow.

"No reason," replied Pippin, shaking off his fright. "So, if you didn't receive my invitation, how are you here?"

"You are not the only person with the power to grant invitations, Mr. Almighty Peregrin, sir," said Mundee, folding her arms. Her brother, who'd found the ball and taken to dribbling it deftly between his feet, looked up and blew a raspberry in agreement.

"If you must know, we were invited by the Master himself," she went on. "I wouldn't say he and my father are very old friends, but they do know each other. Mr. Brandybuck must have hired Dad and I suppose he did a good job."

"A good job doing you-don't-know-what, correct?" said Pippin grinning.

"Very correct," said Mundee smiling back. "But even if I knew, I'd hardly tell you, would I?" Her brother sighed loudly and came up to them, still bouncing the ball around.

"If you two could stop smirking at each other, I'd like an introduction!" he said saucily. Pippin and Mundee stared at him a second before turning back to their conversation.

"That would be your brother, then?" said Pippin, pointing back at the boy with his thumb.

"Oh, I wonder whatever gave it away," said Mundee rolling her eyes. "Pippin, Drufo. Drufo, Pippin. There, now you are all introduced."

"Pleasure to meet you, Drufo," said Pippin shaking the boy's hand. "If I know anything about older sisters, it is that they relish torturing us younger brothers. Well, I say be strong and don't let her get the best of you."

He patted the boy on the shoulder and let him run off to play with the ball some more. Suddenly there came a great stomping of feet and before Pippin could duck or hide, he was being pinched sharply on the ear.

"Does it really take ten minutes to fetch a ball, Pip?" said Pervinca as she pulled his face down to her level. Turning to Mundee, however, she put on a sweet face and extended her hand. "Hi, sweetheart- I'm Pervinca, the charming, fashionable and talented older sister. Who would you be?"

Mundee couldn't help but giggle at Pippin's plight, being so dominated by one so much smaller than he. She took his sister's hand and said, "Mundee Took from Long Cleeve. Nice to meet you!"

"Oh, a North Took! That's fun!" said Pervinca with earnest delight, but still without letting go of the increasingly reddening ear. "Anyway, we have a game to finish, so if you don't mind..."

"Oh, can I play?" cried Drufo as he ran up to the group. "I promise I'm good! Look!" He proceeded to juggle the ball from knee to knee, causing Pervinca to gasp with surprise and simultaneously release her brother.

"Well, it looks like you've found yourself a replacement!" she said as she linked her arm with Drufo's and dragged him off to the playing field.

"I like him," said Pippin as he rubbed his ear. "Shall we head for the tents? I'll wager there's a roast goose waiting for us."

"Oh, that sounds marvelous!" said Mundee rubbing her hands with glee. "But perhaps I could say hello to your handsome cousin first?"

Pippin shook his head as she climbed over the fence and began to make her way towards Merry. He hooked his arm around hers and started to somewhat forcibly lead her to the party.

"I really don't think that's a good idea right now," he said in response to her pout. "Best to leave him alone tonight altogether. But you can put that lip away, because I promise the party will be memorable regardless."

Mundee continued to frown, but now in an entirely silly and exaggerated manner. She allowed herself to be lead away and even started to skip as the music grew louder and the smell of the food became more distinct. Pippin, as always, refused to skip.

* * *

Saradoc Brandybuck, the celebrated hobbit of the evening, stood at the entrance to the party area welcoming the swarming guests with the help of his wife, Esmeralda, who seemed to recognize most people better than him, despite being four years his elder. He gave her a grateful smile for dealing with the previous couple, two crotchety older hobbits whose names rested on the tip of his tongue but simply wouldn't come to his mind. Now came two that he could never have trouble remembering.

"Odovacar! Rosamunda! How good of you to come!" he said shaking hands with the Bolger patriarch while Esmeralda and Rosamunda air-kissed each other about the cheeks.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, old boy!" laughed Odovacar while clapping Saradoc on the back. The Bolgers visited so rarely that it was quite the treat to see them, even if only half the family had shown up. Odovacar noticed his friend looking past him to see where the younger Bolgers were and cleared his throat, snapping Saradoc back to attention.

"I'm afraid the children couldn't make it once again," he explained. "They are both feeling a bit ill."

"Oh dear, how very sad," said Esmeralda. "And this would have been their first visit to Brandy Hall. Whatever is the matter with them?"

"Just sniffles, dear," Rosamunda lied with a comforting smile. "Nothing to fret about."

In reality, Estella had refused to come after her terrible quarrel with Merry (and especially after he called the pancakes she'd baked for breakfast the next day "chalky" and "grainy"), and Fredegar had been forbidden from leaving the house after coming back that night missing a tooth. But even if the Brandybucks were old friends, they didn't need to know _everything_.

"Well, I hope they're feeling better in time for the Free Fair," said Saradoc in reference to the annual fair that took place on the White Downs during Lithe. "We'll have something very special prepared for that," he added with a wink. Esmeralda hushed him up before he revealed too much and led the Bolgers to their table. She left just in time for another familiar couple to show up.

"Bandogrim! Delilah! What a treat to have you come all this way!" exclaimed Saradoc as the North Tooks approached. They were quite a bit younger than most of his generation, but Bandogrim's service had been invaluable in the past. He looked around but couldn't spot their children, either. He was beginning to fear some sort of plague had struck all the Shire's youth.

"Have you brought the kids or are they stricken with disease as well?" he asked as he scanned the crowd and couldn't find any other families with children. But Bandogrim and Delilah merely stared in surprise.

"No, they're very much at the peak of good health," said Bandogrim. Then with a chuckle, he added, "I daresay they are _too_ healthy."

"Why, is there something going around?" interrupted his wife, who was prone to being overprotective. "Ought we leave? Oh, where is Drufo? I can't see him. I swear, if he's gotten that tunic muddy-"

But both Saradoc and Bandogrim had stood on their tiptoes and could see the field where all the younger hobbits were still thoroughly engaged with their game. Bandogrim pointed out his son and laughed to see how well he was doing at the sport.

"There's one- getting on quite well with the ladies, as far as I can tell," he said as he watched one of the Brandybuck lasses give his boy a hug after a particularly impressive save. But his expression soured as he turned his eye to his daughter who was coming up the field with Pippin close in tow. "And there's the other one, still hanging about with that foolish hooligan. I tell you, when I get my hands on that fellow..."

"What? That thin lad behind your Diamond? Why, that's my nephew, Peregrin," said Saradoc as he squinted to make out their faces. "Yes, I can see now. You mustn't worry, he's quite a dear lad. As harmless as a house-cat."

"I hate cats," grumbled Bandogrim as he continued to stare at Pippin angrily. But Saradoc only laughed and clapped him on the back.

"And wait until you meet his father, the Thain!" said Saradoc, causing the North Tooks' eyes to suddenly widen immensely. "He's a wily old codger, that one. You're going to love him! I bet he's already on the dance floor, as a matter of fact."

The Thainship had always been a sensitive topic for the North Tooks. Yes, it was a more or less nominal position and the true leader of the Shire was the Mayor, and, yes, since the Shire was in a nearly eternal state of peace, there was little need for a Thain to muster the troops. But every so often Bandogrim would wonder what it would be like to have that title and control... and Delilah would wonder what it would be like to be in charge of the hobbit that had that control.

"You'll have to introduce us," Bandrogrim said icily before leading his wife away.

After greeting several local families, Saradoc was pleased to see Esmeralda returning, looking every bit as smug and self-satisfied as she did the day he proposed to her.

"Well, there you are at last!" he cried, throwing his arms up in the air. "I was beginning to think you'd found a younger, more handsome hobbit."

"And then who would wash your unmentionables?" laughed Esmeralda as she patted his arm. "No, don't be silly. I was merely having a chat with the Bolgers."

"And prying into their business?" said Saradoc, a knowing glint in his eye.

"As I am wont," replied Esmeralda, nodding with pride. "And it's good I did, too. I learned a little bit more about the little ones' 'maladies'. It turns out, our Merry had quite a bit to do with it."

"You don't say!" Saradoc gasped. "He didn't push them into the Water, did he? When I was his age, I was always pushing my cousins into the Brandywine. Merimac would always get such pneumonia..."

"Your son did _not_ push anyone into a river," sighed Esmeralda. "Rosa was very vague, but I got the sense that there'd been a great deal of arguing while he and Peregrin were visiting."

"You don't think...? I mean, it couldn't have been that serious? Could it?" Saradoc wondered about the nature of those arguments and couldn't help but wish that his son would confide in him more often. Esmeralda sighed again and gazed off into the distance where she could see Merry sitting on top of a hobbit-pile of young Brandybucks.

"Perhaps we've been too lenient with him," she mused aloud. "Perhaps we should have stressed the importance of family and hard work and responsibility more. I do hope he does _something_ with his life."

"And what's more, I would like some grandchildren!" added Saradoc with a stomp of his foot.

But Esmeralda began to wave to the newest batch of incoming guests. And at the front, none other than Saradoc's much younger cousin, Frodo Baggins. Though their parents had been siblings, Frodo could easily pass for his son or nephew. It was actually quite uncanny how young the fellow appeared; he looked nearly the same as he had when he'd come of age sixteen years ago.

"Hello dear Frodo!" he said, drawing him into a warm embrace. Frodo barely escaped the tight hug only to be caught by Esmeralda, who proceeded to pinch his cheeks.

"Ah, it's very good to see you two again," he stammered as he pulled away and began to rub his reddened cheeks. "Very good to be back at Brandy Hall again."

"Well, if it's so good, why don't you move back?" laughed Saradoc. Before Frodo could formulate a response, Saradoc noticed a close friend of the family's and became distracted.

"Maggot, old bean!" he shouted over Frodo's shoulder. "I see you've brought the Missus! I hope you've brought some of your mushrooms, as well!"

Hearing Farmer Maggot's name, Frodo went pale and had to excuse himself, muttering something about finding his friends. He ran away from the older Brandybucks before he could be spotted by his childhood nemesis. Granted, he looked older than the last time he stole from Maggot's crop, but if he knew the Master of Buckland, there was sure to be a lengthy introduction. He certainly didn't need to risk a public flogging.

Just as Frodo thought he spied Pippin entering the party pavilion with what appeared to be the same girl who'd left her clothes at Bag End, he was suddenly being pinched and patted again. This time it was Pippin's parents, Paladin and Eglantine Took. The Thain and his wife were far and away the oldest of the various family leaders assembled there, but they were quite a bit more spirited than even some of the younger hobbits.

"Frodo, you cheeky monkey!" exclaimed Paladin, who had always been a little eccentric and had only become more-so upon recently acquiring his seat of power. "Come tell Uncle Pal and Auntie Eggie all about your fabulous bachelor life!"

Frodo smiled and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the unavoidable and winding conversation that was sure to follow.

* * *

Meanwhile Pippin was navigating the already crowded party tent where he expected his family to be sitting. He was surprised that none were seated yet, especially since the food was already being served. Mundee, who'd followed close behind, picked a name-card off a nearby table and snorted.

"And of course they put down my proper name," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "On the bright side, it looks like we'll be sitting right next to your family!"

"Oh, is that so? And where are might they be?" said Pippin with poorly attempted casualness as he craned his neck to see if her terrifying father was anywhere within the vicinity.

"You know, I haven't the foggiest idea..." said Mundee before climbing up on a chair and scanning the area.

"Why, there they are by the fence," she said as she spotted them at the edge of the pavilion. Her father was trying to calm down her mother, who appeared to be having a fit... and after finding her brother, she understood why: Drufo had slipped into a pile of mud and spoiled all his clean new clothes. She shook her head and climbed back down, only to find that Pippin was already seated at his table with a mountain of food stacked upon his plate.

"You've got to be joking," she gasped. Then to her complete and utter amazement, Pippin began to shovel away at the food like a hobbit three times his size. One that hadn't eaten in several months. "I don't believe it," she muttered, in awe of his preternatural ability to masticate.

"What? It's a party, I can eat how I want!" said Pippin. Or he would have said, had his mouth not been filled with half-chewed chicken and cabbage and potatoes. Instead it came out sounding a bit like Orc gibberish.

"How do you eat like that and stay so scrawny?" Mundee mused aloud.

"Aye, that's a bit harsh," said Pippin after finally swallowing. "It's all muscle, you know," he added, flexing his arm to little effect. "Anyway, you should see my sister's husband- why, he must surely be the thinnest hobbit I've ever known. Taller than me, too."

"Pervinca is married? But she didn't seem _that_ much older than you," said Mundee while wondering whether Southern Tooks married earlier than most Shire hobbits.

"Don't be silly, I have two sisters besides her," said Pippin as he began to reload his plate. He turned away when he heard someone calling his name, giving Mundee the opportunity to sneak a drink of his ale, since her table only had a pitcher of juice. "Speak of the devil," he said to himself before shouting, "I'm over here, Pim! What is it?"

His second oldest sister, Pimpernel, came waddling over with her husband, Bartus Burrows, following close behind. Barty, as everyone preferred to call him, was indeed rail thin and rather tall, which was terribly amusing to Mundee considering how much shorter and wider his very pregnant wife was.

"Have you finally decided to take a break from your traitorous sport?" asked Pimpernel, who was of similar mind when it came to football versus golf. She sat down next to Pippin and poked their table's barrel of ale, making a face at the brew that she knew she couldn't drink in such a condition.

"Isn't there anything else to drink?" she said, aiming the question at her husband who quickly took to investigating the surrounding tables.

"You know it wasn't my idea to start up that game!" said Pippin. "Merry practically forced me to play! But go on, what were you shouting about for?"

"I'm getting to it," said Pimpernel as Mundee handed her a glass of apple juice. "Wouldn't you like to introduce me to your polite friend first?"

"Oh, Mundee's very polite. Nearly finished off my beer." Turning around to face a sheepishly grinning Mundee, he added, "Don't think I didn't see that."

"Well, dear, it's a pleasure," said Pimpernel shaking Mundee's hand. "I am Pimpernel, Peregrin's charming, clever, and talented older sister."

Mundee exchanged a knowing look with Pippin, sensing a pattern with his sisters' methods of self introduction. Just then Barty darted over, clutching several glasses of various liquids.

"I've found three types of ciders, some very light beer, and a glass of water," he said proudly as he maintained his tenuous grasp on all the beverages.

"Thank you, darling, but I'm afraid there's no need anymore," said Pimpernel after finishing her juice. "My brother's friend- er, Mundee, was it?- already took care of the matter. This is my husband, Barty, by the way."

"Juice! That's brilliant!" exclaimed Barty as he dropped all the glasses to shake Mundee's hand. "Oh, dear. There they go."

"And for once, I did _not_ do it!" Pippin announced happily while Mundee bit down her lip to keep from laughing.

"That reminds me," said Pimpernel, slapping his knee. "Pearl is mad at you for that spill in the kitchen."

Pippin nearly choked on his food. "Spill? What spill? I was out in the field being a traitor, remember? If there was a spill, I certainly had nothing to do with it!"

"Well, you did and you didn't," said Pimpernel as she took a pickle from his plate. "Because technically the wee ones did it. But Pearl did ask you to look after them and you didn't, so in a sense you caused the spill."

Pippin stared at his sister dumbfounded. Having finished picking up all the broken pieces of glass, Barty looked up and added, "I wouldn't argue with that logic."

"Well, here comes your chance to make amends," said Pimpernel while pointing towards Brandy Hall. "Pearl's got Joe and the kids in tow, and she looks mighty miffed."

Pippin followed her gaze and saw his oldest sister making her way through the crowd while dragging along the older children, Priscilla and Jerold. Her husband, Jobold "Joe" Hornblower, trailed behind carrying the youngest of their small brood, Laila. Pippin would have found it humorous to see the giant bear of a hobbit pussyfooting about behind his fair-haired and very feminine wife, had she not been barreling toward their table with all the ferocity of a wolverine.

"But it isn't my fault!" cried Pippin, looking about at his companions in a panic. "She asked me to look after them while I was in the outhouse! I was in a very precarious state!"

"'Precarious state,' my eye!" growled Pearl as she marched up to the table. "You were hiding in there, and don't even pretend to have a stomach ache now, because I have seen that trick too many times!"

Pippin stammered wildly, trying to quickly concoct a plan. As luck would have it, he could see out of the corner of his eye that Merry and the rest of the Brandybuck gang had run into the pavilion. They seemed to be chasing after Mundee's brother, who was shouting that he was going to sound the Horn-call of Buckland.

"I'd love to stay and chat, Pearlie, but it looks like Merry might need my assistance more," he said as he stood up. He suddenly pushed Mundee towards her and added, "Have you met Mundee? She's from Long Cleeve!"

Then before anyone else could flap their gums at him, he ran off after Merry and disappeared through a side entrance into Brandy Hall. Sensing Mundee's feelings of abandonment, Pearl softened her expression and let go of her squirming children.

"There, there, poor thing," she said, rubbing Mundee's shoulder. "We all know how it feels to be let down by that one. Isn't that so?"

"Uncle Pippin dropped me when I was a baby!" said Priscilla with a large, gap-toothed smile.

"Don't mind her, she's exaggerating," laughed Joe. Then quietly, he added, "He did drop her, though. But she was a toddler."

Everyone laughed at the precocious statement, but the children weren't done talking about their favorite uncle.

"Uncle Pippin likes to wear dresses," said little Jerry in an attempt to best his older sister.

"Uncle Pippin wears a wig!" countered Priscilla.

"Uncle Pippin sounds like a cat when he sings!" cried Jerry as he jumped in the air.

"Uncle Pippin is a bundle of sticks someone threw a coat on!" said Priscilla with a stomp of her foot.

"Now, children, that's enough," said Pearl, although the children had already run out of steam and only little Laila was still babbling, albeit incoherently.

"I'm sure they have a point," giggled Mundee. "But I think I'd better go after him now."

"Suit yourself, dear," said Pearl. Then as an aside, she went on, "By the way, I'm Pearl- the charming, beautful, and talented older sister."

Mundee shook her hand and then ran off, smiling to herself at the final introduction. As she made her way to the other side of the party, she wondered whether Pippin had a silly title he used when introducing himself to his sisters' friends. By the time she reached the side door, she'd thought of five pompous descriptions he might use. Just as she reached out for the knob, a tall unfamiliar hobbit slid in front of her and blocked off the entrance.

"Hello, pretty girlie," he said smiling a wolfish grin that caught Mundee off-guard. "How can I help you, love?"

"Oh, hello," she said, feebly attempting not to blush. "I just need to get through that door, if you could please move aside."

"Ah, but I'm afraid I can't please move aside," he responded, mocking her ever so slightly.

"But I'd like to go after my friend," she said, growing a little bit annoyed now. "He just came in this way. I don't think anyone would really mind if I went in-"

"Well, I know _I_ wouldn't mind, but here's the thing..." He bent down and lowered his voice, speaking now very seriously. "The Master of Buckland, whose birthday it is today, has placed me in charge of watching this door. He said to me, 'You watch that door and mind that no one enters that hasn't been staying at Brandy Hall.' And well..."

He looked Mundee up and down in a way that made her already burning cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink.

"No, I would have definitely remembered if I had seen you before," he said, folding his arms. "Can't let you in, even though I'd like to," he added with a wink.

Mundee sighed and began to wander off, thinking that now would be a good time to find Drufo. She hadn't seen him dash into Brandy Hall and assumed he was still rolling around in the mud somewhere. But before she had gone ten paces, there came a whistle from behind her and she turned around.

"I didn't say you had to leave, now did I?" said the hobbit standing guard by the door. Her good senses told her that this was not the sort of fellow to engage in conversation. But Mundee never listened to her good senses.

"Well, you didn't make it sound like you wanted me to stay, either," she said coyly. "What do you want with me, anyway?"

"Just someone to talk to! Is that a crime?" he said, raising his arms in feigned offense. "Or what, do you have some fine-talkin' lad that's waiting to dance with you? Go on, then, if that's the case. I won't come between you two."

Mundee snorted. "What, me? No one wants to dance with me."

"Why not?" said the hobbit, wagging his eyebrows. "You've got working legs, haven't you?"

"I suppose I do." Then with a grin that she couldn't hide any longer, she added, "Is that an invitation?"

"If it were an invitation, what would be your answer?"

"Well, I'd have to give it some thought, but I'd probably say..." Then grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the dance floor, she said, "Spin me!"


	6. The Brandy Hall Birthday Ball: Part 2

**Shirelings**

**Chapter 6**

_**The Brandy Hall Birthday Ball: Part 2**_

A floor above the dancing, eating, and joke-telling merriment at the party pavilion, Pippin was with the older Brandybuck lads in the Room of Mathoms. The well-furnished room was a miniature museum of sorts, housing collections spanning generations of Brandybucks. Some of the lesser items were blanketed by a thin coat of dust, while the more impressive horns and weapons hung about the walls in pristine condition.

Berilac and Merimas were currently attempting to steer young Drufo away from the prized and possibly problem-causing items and toward the less interesting family trees and antique quilts. Doderic perched by a window, overlooking the festivities below and occasionally commenting on the party-goers' peculiar behaviors. Pippin sat in a much too large velvet armchair next to Merry, who was slumped down in the chair's twin.

"But you were doing so well during the game," said Pippin, as he tried to reach a halfway comfortable position in the gargantuan seat. "How can you be so morose again?"

"She didn't even bother to come and berate me," sighed Merry, slumping even lower than one thought possible. "That's how little she cares now."

"The Thain and his wife sure know how to cut a rug," called Doderic from the window. The others nodded in agreement, knowing quite well that the old hobbits were surprisingly limber in their old age, and quickly resumed their conversations.

"I do think you're looking at this quite wrong," said Pippin, throwing a leg over one of the armrests. "Perhaps she thought if she came, you'd only scream at her and make her more embarrassed."

"You know that doesn't really help," said Merry glaring. Pippin shrugged and continued to fidget, unable to find the right spot in the massive cushion. Finally he gave up and rose to his feet.

"Well, I'm sorry, but it's true. Anyway, if you screamed at me like that, I'd start to imagine you didn't want me around anymore." Then with a broad grin, he added, "But you'd never scream at me like that, would you, Meriadoc?"

"Not unless you started lying to me and playing tricks with my feelings," moaned Merry as he continued to slide down. He was practically on the floor now.

"I wonder what poor bag Larry's playing a trick on tonight," said Doderic. He scoured the dance floor for one of the Hall's more mischievous servants, a fellow who made it his regular tradition to pull pranks on unfortunately homely lasses at the Master's parties. "Pippin, you'd better warn Pervinca, what with that dowdy new hairstyle she's sporting."

"Don't talk about my sister like that!" said Pippin, throwing the large armchair cushion at Doderic and narrowly missing his head. "Maybe her hair is shorter than mine now, but in five years, every girl from here to Michel Delving will want to crop her hair like that!"

"Oh, calm down, you great loon," laughed Doderic. "It looks like Ilberic finally got her to dance with him. No chance of a Larry Attack, at least not while Ilby's got his hands on her."

"He's what?" squawked Pippin.

"What am I going to do?" wailed the pile of mush formerly known as Merry.

"I'll tell you what you'll do!" said Berilac as he strode over, leaving Merimas to wrangle Drufo on his own. "You need to go downstairs and make your father proud!"

Merry and the others stared at him blankly. Even Merimas paused from hog-tying Drufo to give Berilac a look of utter confusion.

"You have to find the prettiest lass down there and twirl her like she's never been twirled before," said Berilac while forcing a demonstration on Pippin. "There's a sea of lovelies out there and you just need to pick one and move on."

"But I already have picked one..." said Merry.

"No! You have to move on," said Berilac as he lifted Merry to his feet and pushed him toward the door.

"But Estella..." said Merry pathetically while being shoved out the door.

"No! Move on!" Berilac slammed the door shut, only to have it swing open again.

"But who should I pick?" said Merry, poking his head through.

"I do not care! Anyone! Just move on!" shouted Berilac as he forced Merry through again.

The door creaked open and all the rest (including Drufo who was tied up on the floor) repeated, "MOVE ON."

Finally the door was shut and Merry left in earnest. Berilac sat down in the unoccupied armchair and released a sigh of relief. The others followed him in sitting and relaxing. This restful silence lasted a full minute before Doderic jumped up from the window.

"So who wants to go read his journal?"

"I know where he keeps it hidden!" said Merimas, also springing to his feet.

The whole gang began to file out of the room, when they remembered Drufo and quickly untied him. As they started to head down the corridor towards Merry's room, Pippin flicked the back of Berilac's head.

"What was that for?" he said rubbing the offended spot.

"Making me the girl in your _twirling talk_," replied Pippin sullenly. But Berilac laughed and threw an arm around him.

"It's because you're so dainty," he said pinching Pippin's cheek. Pippin scowled, but then laughed as well, being a good sport after all.

And knowing that one day he would be a very important hobbit and they'd all get their comeuppance.

* * *

The fast-paced song ended and all the dancing hobbits broke apart from their partners to clap before the band switched to a slower number. A few older couples stayed for the more romantic dance, but the rest returned to their seats to fill up on food before the evening's grand toast. Mundee continued to linger on the dance floor with her new friend, having seen her parents' dual looks of disapproval from their table and not wanting to be harangued just yet.

Mundee glanced at the hobbit out of the corner of her eye and wondered if he was going to ask her to dance again. He turned and smiled, but before he could say anything, the Master of the Hall came up to them and broke the silence.

"Diamond, I'm glad to see you are having a good time," he said with a smile. Then nudging her with his elbow, he added, "Though I'm not so sure your parents are very pleased, eh?"

He grinned and waved at the North Took table where Bandogrim and Delilah were still glaring daggers at her. Drufo was still missing, so that probably wasn't helping their moods. Still, Mundee couldn't feel too guilty about enjoying herself at the party and waved as well. Saradoc laughed and clapped her on the back. She had only met the Master a few times on her father's business trips, but he always struck her as a good-natured old hobbit with an appreciation for fun. Not at all as uptight as some of the other folks of his generation, and certainly not as stern as her parents.

Turning to the other hobbit, he went on, "Now Larry, the big toast is approaching, so I'd like to have some wine brought up. See if you can run to the cellar and fetch several bottles."

"Any particular vintage, sir?" said Larry.

"Oh, I don't know. Just get a few good years." Saradoc smiled kindly and patted Larry on the shoulder, adding, "You can be the judge here."

The Master left to continue entertaining his guests and Larry began to head for the Brandy Hall entrance. Mundee followed after him, naturally.

"Wait for me!" she called as she ran up. "I can help you bring up the wine!"

"Oh, no, I couldn't ask you to do that," said Larry shaking his head. "It's mighty unpleasant down in the cellar. You don't want to go there, what with your clean, pretty frock."

"Please, _please_ let me come with you," Mundee whined. "I promise I won't be a bother."

"If you insist," he said with a strange little smile. As he began to open the door, he added, "Mind the dogs!"

As he disappeared through the entrance, there suddenly came a great baying and shuffling of paws. Mundee snickered as she heard him barking commands at the dogs. After looking back to see that her parents weren't following, she stepped through and shut the door behind her. Inside the dimly lit corridor, a motley pile of hounds lay about in a corner, thoroughly cowed by Larry's scoldings. Only one friendly mutt came up to Mundee, wagging its tail and panting happily.

"Hello there, Doggy!" said Mundee as she petted the sweet old dog. But she couldn't linger long, because Larry was already out of sight, having slipped through another side door. She ran out after him and quickly shut the door, making sure not to let any of the dogs out. The disinterested pack went back to watching the main exit and hoping someone would let them out or at least supply treats.

Catching up to Larry, Mundee could not help but feel that the hallway was a bit on the dark and cramped side. All the similar-looking doors added to her increasing sense of unease.

"I imagine it would be easy to get lost in all these tunnels," she mused timidly.

"It's not pretty to look at, I'll give you that, but it's a servant tunnel and the quickest way to the cellar," said Larry. "If you're frightened, you can take my arm."

Mundee jumped at the opportunity and immediately clung onto his outstretched arm. She was surprised this was going so well- at this point, any other fellow would have rolled his eyes and called her a nasty name. She didn't notice his peculiar smirk or the way he looked over his shoulder to see that they were alone in the hallway.

Finally he stopped in front of a rather foreboding and decrepit door and pulled out a ring of keys. He unlocked the door and held it open, but Mundee was reluctant to head down the rickety staircase into the pitch black cellar.

"But it's so dark!" she gasped as she squinted, unable to see the bottom of the stairs.

"Well, if you're not up for it, then you might as well head back to the party," said Larry after he took a lantern off the wall and went down past her. Mundee gulped as she watched the bobbing light grow smaller and smaller as he descended further down the steps. Mustering all her courage, she hurried down after him and grabbed onto his hand once they'd reached the bottom.

There were several spare candles lying on a shelf, and Larry used the lantern to light one and handed it to Mundee.

"Now the bottles we have here are too new to bring out, so why don't you head into the 1380s section and find a good vintage there?" he said pointing toward the back of the cellar. "It's a few rows over, so you'd best mind your flame and watch for rats."

"Rats?" stammered Mundee. Larry cocked an eyebrow and she immediately threw on a falsely confident smile. "Why should I worry about rats? Dirty little buggers don't stand a chance against me!"

"That's well good, isn't it?" he said, walking down the aisle. "You'd better get a move on, then."

"Right, but where will you be if I need you?" she said, chasing after him. "I mean, I'll need to show you the wine, won't I? For approval, that is."

"I'll just be over here in the 1390s," he said as he turned a corner and vanished.

Mundee watched the glow of his lantern grow fainter and fainter, and shivered in the deepening darkness. She sighed and finally headed for the row he'd pointed out to her. The weak light of her candle gave her little comfort and it was difficult to read the bottle titles. Though the wines were all less than forty years old, the writing on their labels had faded enough to make the chore sorely difficult. Older vintages seemed to be better organized, with the years painted brightly on their shelves, but these had apparently been categorized by someone a few cards short of a deck. And with very horrible handwriting.

As the candle's flame began to flicker, Mundee feared the worst and grabbed several bottles at random. As she began the laborious trek back to the entrance, she heard the door suddenly swing open.

A loud voice called from above, "Oi, Larry! You done yet? Scattergold's nagging to start his toast!"

"All right, I'm coming!" came the response. "Wait a minute, would you?"

Mundee was halfway down her row when she heard footsteps going _up_ the staircase. She began to sprint and just as she made it to the main aisle, she watched in horror as Larry exited and slammed the door shut. The wind from the motion pushed her over, causing the bottles to fall and break and the candle flame to die. For a moment she sat in the absolute darkness in silence, stupefied beyond all thought. But as realization of her entrapment legitimately dawned upon her, she broke out into a cold sweat and began to hyperventilate.

Then the sound of tiny scurrying feet jolted her senses and she dashed up the stairs, faster than she knew herself capable. After a perilous scramble, she reached the top and began to pull on the doorknob. But to her extreme dismay, it would not budge. Someone had locked it.

Mundee cursed in frustration and began to bang on the door. Her fists failing, she tried ramming into the door with her side, hoping the old wood would burst open. But it was stronger than it looked and only caused her shoulder to ache with soreness. She cursed again and kicked the door, now stubbing her toe painfully and almost falling over backwards. Luckily she clutched the railing and caught herself before she took a nasty tumble.

She sat down on the top step and tried to think. Someone would have to pass by eventually. Even though the hallway was a servants' passage and nearly everyone was at the party, including the other servants.

"Oh, who am I kidding? I'll be stuck down here forever!" she cried in despair.

There came a creaking upon the stairs way down below and she could have swore she'd seen several pairs of glowing eyes staring up at her. Now she wasn't normally terrified of rats- though they certainly weren't her favorite animals- but the idea of being feasted upon by millions of sharp little teeth was hardly how she'd like to die. No, she preferred the concept of growing old and going in her sleep. Or maybe consumption. That was certainly more romantic than being eaten alive by rats.

So when she saw the eyes, she crawled to the edge of the door and began to hyperventilate again. And when something furry brushed against her foot, she began to scream at the top of her lungs. As she shrieked and clawed at the door, there suddenly came a sound of footsteps in the hallway.

"Help! Someone! I'm trapped and there are rats climbing up my legs!" she shouted into the keyhole.

She pressed herself against the door and kicked at the rats now attempting to nibble at the jelly between her toes. To her great relief, whoever was outside had stuck a key into the lock and was now turning the knob. When the door finally opened, she fell out onto the floor and the sea of rats went spilling down the hallway, rushing for the kitchen where some poor cooks would no doubt experience a traumatizing episode of their own.

Mundee gasped for air as she watched the horde scurry off. She looked up at her savior... and was shocked to see a very surprised and bemused Pippin.

"Do I even need to ask how that happened?" he said as he helped her to her feet.

"This awful cad tricked me into coming down there with him and then left me alone in the dark!" she uttered, the fear subsiding only to be replaced by rage. "Some terrible goblin named Larry! He danced with me and said I was such a pretty lass and then he locked me in with the rats!"

"Oh... _oh_!" said Pippin, as he understood that Mundee had been the latest victim of a merciless prankster. He didn't have the heart to tell her why he'd picked her, though. "Well, it's a good thing I came by this way or else it would be quite a kerfuffle, wouldn't it?"

"If by a 'kerfuffle' you mean I'd be gnawed to death, then yes. Yes it would," said Mundee, not finding the situation at all as amusing as Pippin seemed to find it. "Anyway, what were you doing here? Isn't this the servant's hallway or something?"

"Yes it is, actually," said Pippin looking somewhat sheepish. "But it's the quickest way to the kitchen and I meant to sneak some pastries back to Merry's room."

Looking down the hallway where any moment now several agitated cooks would come storming out, he went on, "But I don't think I should like to go there anymore."

"So you were in Merry's room, were you?" said Mundee, perking up now. "Well, let's go back, why don't we?"

"He isn't there. It's just his cousins in there now," said Pippin shaking his head in disbelief. "You know, I really don't think you should try to find him now. He's in a terrible mood."

"But perhaps I could cheer him up," she said, positively bubbly now as she pulled him back towards the exit. "Maybe if I dance with him, his mood will turn right around!"

"I really doubt that," said Pippin. "Listen, why don't we find your brother instead? I'm sure Merry's cousins are quite tired of watching him after all this time."

"Oh, all right," said Mundee stopping and spinning around. "There he is."

Pippin turned and saw that Drufo was indeed coming down the hallway. He appeared to be carrying a rather large box, and not too far behind him Berilac, Merimas, and Doderic were chasing in close pursuit. He was within shouting distance when they tackled him and wrestled the box away. The cousins then helped Drufo up, nodded at Pippin, winked at Mundee, and disappeared down another intersecting corridor.

"Drufo, what were you doing with that box?" said Mundee as her brother came over, dusting off his bottom. "What was in there, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Drufo with a shrug and a smile.

"Then why in the world were you running with it?" said Mundee.

"They wouldn't let me see it," said Drufo. "So I had to take it."

"I know about that box," interjected Pippin. He rubbed his chin, as if deep in thought. "They wouldn't let me see it either. Even Merry's been very secretive about it. And he never keeps secrets from me."

"Speaking of Merry, let's go find him!" said Mundee as she went skipping toward the exit. Pippin rolled his eyes but followed, pulling Drufo along with him, lest the boy decided to go exploring and also discovered the wine cellar.

* * *

Once they came outside, Drufo ripped out of his grip and went running to his table, his appetite having caught up with him apparently. Pippin now clutched Mundee who had located Merry and was eager to go have a chat. He was dancing with another girl- Pippin's older niece, actually- and seemed to be having a nice time. Or pretending, anyway.

"Let go!" said Mundee, squirming to no avail. "I won't do anything! I just want to talk to him, that's all!"

"No, you want to go harass him and I don't think he'd appreciate it," said Pippin, steering her away from the dance floor.

"But why?" whined Mundee. "It's that Esmella, isn't it?"

"That's not her name and I pray you won't say that to anyone else," said Pippin. "But, yes, actually, it's because of Estella. I really shouldn't be telling you this, but-"

"But she's not even here, is she?" said Mundee slyly as she looked back at Pippin. "Having a rough patch, are they? Seems to me he could really use some decent company."

"Not yours!" said Pippin a little too loudly, his exasperation now clearly showing. He let go to rub his temples and fortunately Mundee did not use the chance to run off and tackle Merry. She merely stared at him a little hurt and bewildered.

"But I wouldn't do anything wrong," she said quietly. "Am I so awful that just talking would be loathsome to him?"

"No, it isn't you," said Pippin. "Look, you barely know him and you know Estella even less, but trust me, they care for each other quite a bit. It's just useless to try and interfere."

Mundee sighed and gave up, folding her arms and watching the couples twirling around on the dance floor. Little Priscilla was standing on Merry's feet, but she barely came up to his waist.

"She might not be here, but I'll tell you something," said Pippin watching his cousin giving a fake smile to some comely Marish girls. "She's definitely on his mind. This silly quarrel won't last very long."

Mundee sighed again. "What has she got that I haven't got, anyway?"

"Oh, I can't imagine," said Pippin as he mimed a large bosom. She furrowed her brow and frowned exaggeratedly, but ultimately couldn't keep from giggling.

Her father, however, did not find the spectacle amusing, as he approached the two with a look of cold fury upon his face. "Diamond, your mother wants you with us for the toast," he said, moving his lips as little as possible.

"Daddy, you remember Peregrin from Hobbiton," said Mundee brightly, attempting to mollify her livid father. "He's a Took, too, you know."

"From Tuckborough, sir," said Pippin with a nervous grin.

"I know who you are," said Bandogrim frostily. "You're the Thain's boy."

"Oh, have you two met then?" said Pippin, hope rising ever so slightly.

"Yes, unfortunately," said Bandogrim before steering Mundee away. Despite digging her feet into the ground, her father was able to successfully drag her to their table, where her mother was already berating Drufo for his mischief and stains.

Pippin scratched his head, wondering how anyone could find a meeting with his always entertaining father "unfortunate," when suddenly he felt a tug on his hair. He spun around only to find his parents chuckling on his other side.

"So the prodigal son returns!" exclaimed his father. "Be a good lad and walk us back to the table. I believe your uncle is going to make a speech soon."

"So all that dancing has tuckered you out, has it?" said Pippin to his parents as they linked arms with him. "You still seem a bit sprightly, to be honest. What's this really about?"

"Don't get saucy, boy," said Eglantine, pinching Pippin upon the ear. "Can't we spend some time with our one and only son?"

"You saw me today at breakfast," said Pippin, thinking back to one of the few moments he'd been with his parents all week. All other days he was out adventuring with Merry and the other young Brandybucks before his mother and father were even out of bed.

"But you were too busy scarfing down scones to have a proper chat with us," said Paladin mournfully. "When will I have a chance to talk to the heir of my title if he is always wandering about the Shire?"

Even though Paladin was making a joke with his melodramatic display, Pippin felt uncomfortable at just the slightest mention of his heirship. Luckily they were already at the table and he wrenched from their grasp to go play with Priscilla and Jerry. Paladin and Eglantine exchanged a look of disappointment before taking their seats and attaching themselves to their other children who didn't mind the attention.

* * *

With everyone finally at their seats, their wine glasses and juice mugs full, the moment was ripe for a speech from the celebrated Master of the Hall. At the moment, however, he was busy begging his son to accept the service of a very successful matchmaker from Stock. Although Saradoc was oblivious to the growing silence from hobbits waiting for the big toast, Merry had become aware of the expectant faces all pointing in their direction.

"I really don't think now is the time for this conversation," he said, pushing a glass of red 1390 wine at his father.

"It's never the time for any sort of conversation, is it?" said Saradoc, refusing the glass. "Well, what time is it, then?"

"It's time for your toast, of course," said Merry, nodding at the attentive and mute crowd of guests. Saradoc opened and shut his mouth a few times before taking the wine glass and stepping onto the little podium that had been set up for this moment. Merry was about to slink off and go sit with Pippin, when Esmeralda pulled him down into a seat next to her in a surprisingly swift motion.

"Well, there isn't much to say other than I'm very glad you all could make it," said Saradoc earnestly. The crowd responded with a loud and raucous shout of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" but Saradoc gestured for them to simmer down, as he wasn't quite finished.

"Now Melly, I'm not done yet, so if you could just wait a bit before you start up with the Springle-Ring," he said, to the laughter of nearly everyone who could remember Bilbo's birthday. Melilot blushed furiously and hid her head, wondering when she'd be able to live down that episode.

"It's been a grand year, full of pleasant surprises and wonderful times with friends and family. Though it isn't too often that I see all your dear faces, it's a great pleasure that we've been able to gather 'round this evening. I only hope that we can meet more and not just at birthdays, even ones as splendid as this one."

There came a shout of "Hear, hear!" and a few voices echoed the utterance. Saradoc smiled and went on, raising his glass now.

"I don't wish to keep you all from your merriment any longer, so let's drink now: here's to friends and family and joyful meetings!"

As he was about to imbibe his drink, he quickly added one more note while he held everyone's attention: "And I do hope you'll all come to the Free Fair later this month; we've got something very exciting in store to show you all!"

Then he took a mighty sip and everyone erupted into cheers before downing their own glasses. Merry snorted and turned to his mother, who looked equally disquieted.

"How long before he lets it slip?"

"I've been trying to keep him from saying too much, but you know how he is," said Esmeralda apologetically.

"Loves to talk almost as much as he loves to spend money," said Merry with a shake of the head. He could see his father was already handing out 'party favors' to various guests that weren't even leaving yet. He was trying to give Frodo a large model boat that had been built inside an empty wine bottle, but it was very apparent that Frodo had no taste for the tacky mathom.

"I suppose I'd better go help him out," said Merry before standing up and stretching.

"Help whom?" said Esmeralda with a knowing smile. "Your cousin from having to go home carrying a large ugly gift? Or your father from embarrassing himself?"

"Pick one," said Merry chuckling.

Esmeralda watched as he walked off to go disentangle his father from his poor friend and wondered whether she hadn't done such a terrible job raising him after all.


	7. Fun and Failure at the Free Fair

**Shirelings **

**Chapter 7**

**Fun (and Failure) at the Free Fair**

"Carefully... _carefully_... don't spill it!"

"I'm not spilling it!"

"You are now! You just got my feet wet!"

"Your feet are always wet!"

"How does that even make sense?"

"I will dump this bucket on both of your heads if you don't stop squabbling!"

Merry chuckled as he watched his cousins arguing while filling up a small wooden tank with water. Berilac was in charge of the operation and was understandably anxious today. They were setting up their spot at the Free Fair and had been preparing for several months. As far as the older hobbit was concerned, everything they did up until the big reveal had to go like clockwork or else it would all fall apart.

"And what are you standing around laughing at?" said Berilac, noticing Merry's temporary idleness. "If you're finding your job too dull, I can have you filling the tank with these clowns instead."

"No thank you! This is very stimulating work," said Merry as he picked up his paint brush and resumed working on their sign. "You are kind beyond words for assigning it to me!"

Berilac snorted and returned to overseeing Doderic and Ilberic, who smiled too broadly and dumped their buckets a little too enthusiastically. Meanwhile, Merimas looked up from painting the other end of the sign to see two small Michel Delving children approach their area. He clicked his tongue to alert Merry and both of them stood up to block the children's view of their exhibit.

"Whatchoo got there?" said the older girl, who was missing a tooth, causing her to whistle her words.

"You'll have to wait and see," said Merry genially.

"But we want to see now," whined her younger brother after removing his thumb from his mouth.

"Well, there's nothing to see yet, so shoo!" said Berilac suddenly. His outburst frightened the children and they ran away, probably to find a parent and complain.

"That wasn't necessary!" said Merry folding his arms.

"They were so small," said Merimas quietly.

"Be that as it may, we can't afford anyone finding out what we've got planned," said Berilac as he went back to his task. "Now stop standing around and get back to work!"

Merry and Merimas sighed but returned to their sign-painting. As Merry moved on to coloring in his "Y" he wondered whether Pippin was having more fun at the Took stand.

* * *

Away on the South-Western quadrant of the fair, Pippin was hauling crates of Great Smials wines off a wagon and into the Tooks' large yellow tent. His two cousins Ferdibrand and Everard were helping, as well as his brother-in-law Barty Burrows. By the time they finished organizing the wines, they were exceedingly exhausted and decided to crack some of the bottles open.

Pervinca Took had other ideas, however.

"That is not for you lot!" she said, snatching the bottles away one by one and putting them back in their proper receptacles.

"Who died and made you Thain?" said Pippin angrily.

"Dad, as a matter of fact," said Pervinca, placing her hands on her hips. "He told me to make sure you kept out of trouble, in every sense of the word."

"That's fine and dandy for him, but why can't _we_ drink?" said Everard, gesturing at himself, Ferdy and Barty.

"Hear, hear! We deserve it!" said Ferdibrand. "I mean, look at these sweat stains," he said raising his arms.

"You can be swimming in sweat for all I care; those bottles are to be sold," said Pervinca firmly. "_Not imbibed_."

"Bah, you stopped being fun as soon as you hit thirty," said Everard with a dismissive wave of his hand as he stood up. Ferdibrand stood as well and the two slunk off to find drinks elsewhere.

"I still think you're fun," said Pippin, attempting to get on his sister's good side.

"Don't try to butter me up," said Pervinca with a stony glare. Pippin looked at Barty for sympathy, but Barty merely shrugged as if to say, 'Well, what can you do?' Then, he too stood up and started to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" came the voice of none other than his rather pregnant wife, Pimpernel.

"Why, dearest, I was coming to find you!" he said as innocently as possible. Pimpernel was having none of it.

"You agreed to helping out at the family tent, didn't you?" she said as she awkwardly made her way around the wide table they had set up at the front.

"Yes, but you're my top priority and I wanted to make sure you were doing well," he said, his voice unintentionally climbing pitches. This seemed to agitate Pimpernel even more.

"I'm pregnant, I'm not an invalid!" she screamed, causing all the surrounding vendors to stare in their direction. Pervinca frowned and took her hand.

"There, there, Pim. He didn't know what he was saying," she said soothingly. "Come on, let's go walk around the fair. I heard someone set up a kissing booth a few rows away."

Pimpernel chortled at the concept and allowed herself to be led away. Pervinca turned around briefly and hissed at Pippin, "Stay!"

Pippin rolled his eyes and then turned back to Barty, who looked quite pale and shaken.

"Care to explain what just happened?" said Pippin.

"I wish I could," said Barty as he patted at his forehead with a handkerchief. "She's been acting so peculiarly these last several months. I don't know what it'll be like when it gets closer to the date."

"It'll be worth it in the end, though, aye?" said Pippin with a wink.

"Aye, indeed!" said Barty with a laugh. Then he pulled a small flask out of an inner pocket. "But in the meantime..."

Pippin laughed as he watched him take a solid swig. "Here now, pass that over!" he said before Barty passed him the flask. "Here's to Bartus Borrows, the bravest hobbit I ever knew!"

As he knocked back a drink, Pearl, Joe, and their small brood came up to the tent. He quickly passed the flask back to Barty but the damage was already done.

"I see someone is having too much fun," said Joe while juggling a fidgety toddler.

"Now I know Mum and Dad put you here for flirting too much at Uncle Saradoc's party..." said Pearl pointing at Pippin. "But you haven't done anything to warrant such a punishment," she continued, pointing now at Barty. "Or have you?"

"Just the Missus having an episode," said Barty. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"I'll bet you've had days like this, Joe," said Pippin waggling his eyebrows.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Pearl, a flare of their mothers' epic Banks temper threatening to rise up.

"No, of course not," said Joe with a hearty chuckle. "Pearly treats me too good, actually. If it weren't for her, I'd be stuck selling pipeweed today. Instead I get to wrangle these imps."

Priscilla stuck her tongue out at Pippin while Jerry hopped up and down in an attempt to see over the table.

"Well, we'd better go and find the petting zoo before they go stir-crazy," said Pearl. "We'll see you later. Be good!"

"I am always good!" shouted Pippin after her as she walked off. Then to Joe, he added in an undertone, "I don't know where she heard that I've been punished for 'flirting.' I would never do such a thing!"

"I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm not getting involved," said Joe as he started to follow after his wife.

"But I don't even know how to do it!" cried Pippin, gesticulating wildly.

"It doesn't matter if you don't know how to do it," said Barty suddenly and somewhat morosely. "They'll say anything you do is 'flirting' and then you get to sleep in the guest room."

Pippin sighed at the pathetic display. This was getting to be too much. He needed to figure a way out of the booth so he could see Frodo and Merry and his other cheerful friends and relatives. And maybe see this kissing booth for himself. Just as he was hatching a plan to sneak through the adjoining Banks booth, a freckled sunburnt face popped out from behind the stacked crates.

"Surprise!" said Mundee as she jumped out. Pippin clutched as his heart as he staggered backwards.

"Oh no, not you!" he moaned, throwing his other hand over his eyes.

"Excuse me?" said Mundee, visibly irritated by his reaction. Pippin regained his composure only to start shoving her out the back of the tent.

"You have to leave, right now!" he said as he pushed her toward the exit.

"Are you mad? What are you doing?" shouted Mundee indignantly, refusing to be tossed out like unwanted vermin. She planted herself firmly on the ground and pushed him away. "Of all the nerve! Treating a lass in such a rough way!"

"You deserve as much! Complaining about me after I saved you from that cellar," grumbled Pippin.

"Complaining about you? What are you talking about?" said Mundee, still angry but now also quite confused.

"At the Brandybuck party? Your father went to my father and told him I had been harassing you!" said Pippin. "That I was 'overly familiar and altogether _a forward cad_.' I don't know what gave you the idea that I'm like that, but let me tell you-"

"Hold on a moment!" said Mundee gesturing for Pippin to stop. "He said all that? But I didn't tell him anything. Only that I'd gotten lost inside Brandy Hall and you helped me get out."

"Then I don't know what I can say, other than your father clearly has a vendetta against me," said Pippin throwing his hands up in the air.

"Well, that's silly," said Mundee. "Although, he does tend to blow things out of proportion. Maybe he just didn't like us chatting so much?"

"You think?" said Pippin with a sarcastic snort. "He has it in for me."

"Maybe he does and maybe he doesn't. But the important thing is, our booth is set up all the way on the North side of the fair," said Mundee with a grin. "He won't be able to spy on me today whatsoever."

"That's wonderful, but I still can't be seen with you," said Pippin. "I'm still in trouble for _flirting_. So you can just go back out the way you came and go find someone else to bother today."

"Oh, don't be like that," said Mundee rolling her eyes. She grabbed his arm and pulled him out the exit. "Come on, I'll make sure no one sees you. And anyway, I have someone I want you to meet."

"I hope it's not a pretty cousin or else I'm doomed," muttered Pippin.

"My goodness, however did you guess?" said Mundee with earnest surprise. There outside the tent stood a young hobbit maiden, slightly older and taller than Mundee with darker hair and fewer freckles, but otherwise the resemblance was definitely apparent.

"Hi!" said the perky thing stretching out her hand. "I'm Molly, pleased to meet you!"

"Oh no, no, no!" said Pippin as he tried to veer away.

"Don't be so rude!" said Mundee. "Shake her hand!"

Pippin put on a brave smile (which looked quite a bit like a grimace) and hesitantly shook the girl's hand.

"Hullo Molly," he said attempting not to feel as if at any moment one of his sisters would swoop down and throw him in chains. "It's nice to meet you, too."

As the three of them started to walk down the path in a generally Eastwardly direction, Molly shot Mundee a pleased expression and gave her two thumbs up.

"He's just the way you described him," she whispered loudly and obviously. Mundee smacked herself in the forehead and Pippin couldn't help but grin.

"Been talking about me much, eh?" whispered Pippin in a more effective manner.

"Only to tell her what a skinny, silly fool you are," said Mundee before becoming conveniently distracted by a colorful stand. "Ooh, pearls!"

"What? Where?" shouted Pippin, panicking suddenly at the thought that his eldest sister was nearby. Mundee stared at him in bewilderment and Molly covered her mouth to giggle.

"What is wrong with you? It's only jewelry," said Mundee pointing at the many pretty necklaces and other assorted trinkets.

"I thought it was... oh, never mind," said Pippin wiping his moistened brow.

"I like jewelry, but I'm not supposed to wear it," said Molly out of the blue. "Mother says it's a choking hazard."

"Your mother also says colorful clothes are for strumpets," muttered Mundee while examining a music box that didn't seem to play any sort of melody. It only chirped mechanically.

As Pippin continued to look around anxiously, he realized that he probably would not enjoy the rest of the day if he were stuck with the girls, constantly worrying about being discovered by a relative. Not to mention that they were a bit too loopy to introduce to polite company. If he wanted to see Merry or Frodo or any of his friends today, he'd have to find a way to escape the lasses' clutches. And they were surprisingly strong clutches as they now dragged him off to inspect a hat booth.

* * *

Merry had finished hanging the sign and with the tank more or less filled, the lads had more secretive work to do. They all started to hang up a privacy curtain when some of the Brandybuck girls came by to see what their brothers and cousins were up to. Melilot, being the most inquisitive of the bunch, tried to get past the curtain, but each attempt was thwarted as one of the lads stepped up to block her off.

"Would you stop that!" she finally shouted as her brother pulled the curtain shut in front of her nose. "Merimas, this isn't funny! I want to see whatever it is you are all hiding!"

"It's not up to me whether you can see it or not," whispered Merimas through the gap. "Berilac is in charge and he's told us not to let anyone see the- the thing we're working on."

"But this is part of the Brandybuck area and we are Brandybucks, too," said Mentha, who was oldest of the girls and usually the calmest. "Why can't you let us in on the plan?"

Berilac came up to the curtain and pushed Merimas aside, facing off with the girls. "This project has been developed by the Brandy_bucks_ not the Brandy_does_, if you catch my drift. You've had nothing to do with it all this time, so we're not about to let you in on it now that it's ready for display."

The girls stared at him, livid and indignant at this blatant disrespect.

"Ilberic!" called Celandine suddenly. "Ilby, come out here. Pervinca Took wants to see you."

Her brother immediately dashed out looking excited and then crestfallen at the lie. "What do you want?" he said, irritated to have been tricked so.

"What's in there, eh?" said Celandine. "You've been keeping mum about it for long enough. We want in."

"You know I can't," said Ilberic under his break while giving Berilac a sideways glance. "Anyway, why should I tell you anything when you lied to get me out here?"

"I really think you'll want to tell me what's in there," said Celandine sweetly. "Because if you don't, I will find Pervinca and I will tell her everything. Everything."

Ilberic looked horrified and a little nauseous at the very real threat, but was more frightened of Berilac's wrath presently and slunk back inside. The girls bristled but began to leave, sensing they would get no leeway with the stubborn lads.

"Good boy," said Berilac as he patted Ilberic's shoulder. "You showed her."

"This isn't over!" cried Melilot as they disappeared into the crowd. "We'll be back!"

"I think we've made a mistake leaving the girls out," said Merry. "They can be very crafty, you know. It might be more trouble than it's worth being this secretive."

"You say that now, but wait until everyone sets their eyes on _this_," said Berilac, an almost maniacal glee shining in his eyes as he lifted up a rather heavy box. "Now let's get it in the water."

* * *

Somehow Pippin made it through the most fashion-inclined section of the fair without clawing his eyes and ears out. The girls had stopped at every stand to ooh and ah at all the hats, gowns, and jewelry they could lay their eyes on. But thankfully they were now in the more sensible part where folks sold food and drinks and things he could actually find use for. More importantly, there would be people he knew here. Particularly Frodo and the Gamgees, who always shared a booth.

Unfortunately, Frodo seemed to be missing from his stand, with Sam attempting to man the station while conversing with his nearby Cotton friends. Gaffer Gamgee was apparently taking a nap in his seat while the rest of the Gamgee clan haggled with customers over their many fine fruits and vegetables.

"Good day, sir," said Pippin, putting on his most blue-blood accent as he approached Sam. "I'd like to purchase one of everything."

"Good day, Mister Pippin," said Sam with a sincere smile. It had been some time since the sandwich stealing episode and there was no ill will between them anymore. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, first you can sell me one of your freshest apples," said Pippin as he pulled out several coins from his pocket. "And second you can tell me where Frodo has scurried off to."

Sam plucked a bright red apple from a large bucket hidden underneath the table and handed it to Pippin.

"On the house," he said, handing the apple over. Pippin looked ready to object, but Sam held up a hand. "Mister Frodo said if any of his 'close friends' should come by, they can get anything they want from his crop for free. And I can't tell you exactly where he's gone to, seein' as I don't rightly know myself, but he did say he wanted to see what his Brandybuck kin are up to. So I'd wager that's where he is now, or close enough."

"Ah, that Frodo! Always two steps ahead," said Pippin as he polished the apple on his lapel. "Thanks very much, Sam. You can be very helpful when you're not stuffing bacon down a fellow's satchel."

Sam chuckled and shook his finger. "Now, now, that was never exactly proven, was it? Could've been anyone that did that."

Pippin furrowed his brow in mock frustration but then laughed and leaned against the stand. He gazed over at the Cottons' area where Mundee and Molly seemed engaged in a very lively and flirtatious conversation with Nick and Nibs, the two youngest Cotton boys. Sam's eye seemed to stray in the same direction.

"Didn't you only have one lass following you around last time?" said Sam, an uncharacteristically sly look on his face. "I know I said you moved fast, Mister Pippin, but this is a new record, make no mistake!"

Pippin rolled his eyes. "How is Rose Cotton doing these days?" he said glancing at Rosie as she pretended not to be staring forlornly at Sam. Her complexion now reflected her name more than her coppery hair usually did. "Seems like she could use some company, don't you think?"

"I'm sure she is as fine as ever," stammered Sam, now blushing as well. "That is, I'm sure she isn't any worse than before. Not that she was ever bad. Oh, you know what I mean!"

"Sam, you're working too hard," said Pippin, with a faux-sympathetic frown. "It's starting to show."

With that, he strolled over to the Cotton stand and began to lead Mundee and Molly away.

"Come on, there are many more interesting booths to visit," said Pippin.

"Oh, not yet! Nibs was about to show me where he got his nickname from," whined Mundee while looking back at her new friends.

Pippin looked back as well and arched an eyebrow at the youngest Cotton, who was giving the girls an altogether unwholesome look. It set them off giggling and Pippin knew he had to think quick or else he'd be responsible for the unfortunate events that were sure to ensue should he allow them to stay with the apparently lascivious youth.

"But don't you want to try the best pastries in the Shire?" he said as he pointed at a booth coming up on their left. This instantly caught their attention and in a second they had forgotten all about the handsome Cotton boys.

"I love pastries!" said Mundee cheerfully. "It's my second favorite thing in the world!"

"What's your first favorite thing?" said Pippin.

"Ale," said Mundee. Pippin rolled his eyes.

"I'm not usually allowed to have pastries," said Molly excitedly. "They make me act strange."

"Stranger than usual?" whispered Pippin to Mundee, causing her to snort loudly.

"Don't worry, Moll, you'll be fine. This is going to be-" Mundee cut herself off as she saw who it was that was selling the pastries. "Oh no. Not her. You didn't tell me we were going to see _her_."

Molly continued skipping ahead towards the Bolger booth, but Mundee stopped in her tracks and glared at Pippin.

"What? Estella is good at baking!" said Pippin. Mundee continued to glare. "You don't really intend to miss out on the best sweets in the Shire because of this ridiculous hatred you've cooked up out of nothing?"

Mundee stared at him a moment longer before sighing and walking on. "These better be some _spectacular_ pastries."

Pippin shook his head but then put on his most winning grin as he came up to the booth, where Molly was already gawking at the sugary goods.

"Hello Bolgers!" he exclaimed. "How goes the pastry rivalry?"

"Oh, it goes. It goes, indeed!" said Estella somewhat darkly as she gazed past him and at the Cotton stand.

"She's invented some amazing new treat apparently," said Fatty as he stood up to greet their new customers properly. "Who are your little friends?"

"Well, this is Molly- we've just met," said Pippin gesturing at Molly who was sniffing all the platters of biscuits and cakes and pies. "And this is Mundee-"

"Oh, so that's the lass Estella was telling me about!" said Fatty with a chuckle. Mundee gave him a strange look and then turned to Estella.

"What did you say about me, Esmella?" she said saucily. Estella at last jerked her attention away from the Cottons and looked at Mundee, trying to digest what she'd just heard. Pippin sensed the storm that was about to hit and quickly shifted gears.

"Do go on and tell us more about your scrumptious baked goods!" he said quickly. Fortunately, Estella was more in a mood to talk pastry business than to get into a petty fight with a silly tweenager.

"Well, I don't want to reveal too much..." she said, lowering her voice to a conspiratory tone. "...but this is sure to top whatever Rosie Cotton has made! I'll beat her this year for sure!"

Looking directly at Rosie, Estella waved and smiled brightly. Rosie returned the gesture and then went back to serving customers slices of her famous cherry pie. "She won't know what hit her," said Estella as she continued to smile, her eyes wild with jealousy and glee.

Estella and Rosie had the most hilarious rivalry when it came to baking. Each one was very talented (though naturally Pippin favored Estella's products, what with having tried them more often), but every year at the Free Fair, Rosie Cotton came away with the blue ribbon while Estella always came in second place. It obviously drove her a little mad, but it was the sort of useful madness that led to the creation of delicious treats. So Pippin didn't mind fanning the flames if it meant encouraging her to get better and more creative.

Mundee, however, saw this as an excuse to antagonize one whom she'd labeled as her sworn enemy, for whatever reason young lasses do.

"Oh, I don't know about that," she said innocently. "I was talking to Nibs, Rosie's brother, and he seemed certain that her cherry pie would win again this year. I wish I'd gotten to try a piece."

"No one wants to hear what Nibs has to say!" said Pippin, suddenly very agitated. He wasn't sure why he cared, but the importance she gave Nibs' opinion bothered him a great deal. "I want to hear more about these new treats Estella has made."

"All right, all right! Stop nagging me already!" shouted Estella angrily, acting as if they'd been pestering her for an hour rather than less than five minutes. "Here they are," she said, pulling out a huge platter with a dark cloth covering its contents. She removed the cloth dramatically to reveal a pyramid of dark brown cube-like pastries stacked upon each other. No one present had ever seen anything of the sort.

"Well, go on. Try them," she said to the confounded group. "There's more where that came from. I've actually made enough for half the Shire."

Without further ado, everyone dug in, grabbing a cube and taking a bite. It didn't take more than that initial bite for anyone to realize how ridiculously and magnificently tasty the new invention was.

"I don't know what to say, Stell..." said Fatty as he stared hypnotized at the brown clump of deliciousness in his hand.

"It's... it's so..." stammered Mundee, attempting to find the right words to describe her piece.

"I think..." began Pippin, also unable to quite put his feelings into words.

"Well? Go on, for heaven's sake!" screamed Estella, unable to wait any longer.

"I think this is the best thing I've ever had!" said Pippin at last, throwing his arm up in the air and showering everyone with crumbs from his piece. No one paid any mind; they were too busy attempting to express their ecstasy.

"Stella, they're amazing," said Fatty.

"I don't even know you and I love you for this!" exclaimed Molly, causing a few raised eyebrows.

"They're rather good..." said Mundee slowly as she chewed her second bite. "What's your secret?"

"Well, I really can't say, but-" began Estella before Fatty cut her off.

"She was given this strange powder from Poppy Bolger when she and our cousin Filibert went South for their honeymoon."

Estella glared at her brother for taking all the mystique away from her new creation in one somewhat rushed statement.

"That's it? Powder?" said Mundee as she looked at the two Bolgers, incredulous at the unremarkable secret.

"Well, yes, but there were other steps," said Estella, attempting to change the topic. "Anyway, I'm glad you like them. But the thing is, I can't think of a proper name for them."

Everyone took a moment to think as they mused upon the qualities of the new pastry.

"Well, they're not quite cookies, but they're not quite cakes, either," Mundee pondered aloud as she stared at the brown clump. "How about cakookies?"

Her suggestion was met with a wall of blank stares.

"How about tasty squares?" said Pippin as he took a large bite of his second helping. "Because they're so very tasty!"

"Or magic blocks! Because they taste like magic!" chimed in Molly. Her suggestion was met with silence and one loud snort from her cousin.

"Well, they're brown. What about brownies?" said Fatty as if this was the most obvious answer.

Estella rubbed her temple in agitation. "Do you know what else is brown?"

Fatty screwed up his brow in concentration. "Lots of other delicious food-stuffs?"

"And manure," added Mundee, her mind instantly sinking into the gutter. Everyone quickly made the connection as well and cringed at the thought.

"I think I'll go with tasty squares then," said Estella. "Thank you, Pippin."

Just as the group was about to go for another round of the aptly named tasty squares, Pippin noticed a familiar dour face in the crowd and stepped aside to greet her first.

"Hello Lobelia!" As her expression became even more impossibly unpleasant, he quickly added, "Er, Mrs. Sackville-Baggins, ma'am."

"I know you. You're the Thain's loafer of a son, Peregrin," said Lobelia squinting at his face. "Well, what do you want? Speak up, boy."

"Where is Darling?" said Pippin, attempting some small talk and remembering the adorable little dog that had followed him, Merry and Frodo home not too long ago.

"I beg your pardon!" said Lobelia, raising her umbrella in a somewhat threatening manner.

"I mean your little dog," sputtered Pippin. "The one that Frodo had to return to you after it followed us to Bag End."

"Oh, that Darling," said Lobelia, lowering the umbrella, much to Pippin's relief. "I left her at home. There are far too many coarse, low-bred people here. She isn't built for such a climate. If that's all you want, I will send her your... regards. Good day."

She began to hobble off but Pippin wasn't one to give up that quickly.

"Wait! You are judging the Best Baked Goods competition, isn't that right?" he called out.

"I am also judging three other competitions," said Lobelia in an irritated tone as she slowly turned back around. "What of it?"

"Well, I have the future winner right here at the Bolger booth!" said Pippin, gesturing at Estella who was hiding behind her hand. "You have to try Estella's 'Tasty Squares'! They're the best thing I've ever eaten!"

"And he eats a lot," added Mundee with a light elbow jab at his belly.

"I eat more," grumbled Fatty.

Lobelia was not finding any of their chatter amusing and was keen to get to the Cotton booth already.

"Mind your manners and do not interrupt when others are speaking, uncouth child!" she snapped at Mundee.

"It's true, though! Estella has created the best new treat since sliced bread!" said Pippin enthusiastically. Then in an undertone, he added, "And Mundee _is_ an uncouth child!"

Mundee scowled at Pippin predictably but surprisingly kept her mouth shut.

"I will try these 'tasty squares,' as you seem to call them. But Lotho will try them first," said Lobelia as she snapped her fingers in the air. "I have a sensitive palate and cannot risk upsetting it with poorly-made sweets."

Estella removed her hand and hissed, "'Poorly-made?'"

Fortunately Lobelia was getting to be a little hard of hearing and only continued to snap for her son to follow her. Finally Lotho grudgingly pulled himself away from the Boffins' Famous Treacle Stand and came to see what she wanted. She didn't have to say anything; she merely pointed at the tasty squares and Lotho knew what she expected. He sighed and took the piece Pippin proffered excitedly.

"Isn't it good?" said Pippin as he watched Lotho chew on the pastry with an expression dour enough to match the one his mother always sported. "Doesn't it make you want to sing or dance?"

"Doesn't it make you want to turn into a sparrow and fly into the clouds?" said Molly while flapping her arms and hopping from foot to foot. Lotho took a moment from his chewing to raise an eyebrow at her display.

"You know, believe it or not, I really don't need your help," said Pippin quietly as he pushed Molly to the back of the small crowd that was now forming around the stand.

Fortunately, Molly's peculiar way of expressing herself did not deter Lotho from accurately analyzing the treat. "Mother, this is wonderful," he said to everyone's surprise as he handed her a piece. "You must try one."

"Oh? But it looks so... brown," said Lobelia as she turned the clump over in her hand.

"Yes, it is a rather unappealing shade, but it's like nothing I've ever tried before," said Lotho.

"If you insist," said Lobelia before taking a bite. Everyone watched her chew with bated breath.

"Well? What do you think, ma'am?" said Estella anxiously after Lobelia had swallowed.

"What do I think? I'll tell you what I think," said Lobelia, her temper rising slowly. "This... this _thing_ is more rich and indulgent than I care to explain. It is much too sweet and yet darkly bitter at the same time. It makes me think of heathen barbarians and dark, far-off places."

"Does that mean you like it?" said Estella meekly, hoping against hope that she did.

"NO!" said Lobelia angrily, slamming the tasty square down upon the table. "This is sinful, hellish food, if it can even be called that! This is not for hobbits, it is for wild people with no sense or tradition! This is the food of doxies and rapscallions! This is what your mothers should have warned you about! You are disqualified and banned from the baking competition! FOR LIFE!"

And with that she shuffled off in an angry huff, spitting out tiny bits of tasty square as she headed for the Cotton booth, where Rosie was already holding up her pie and smiling jubilantly. All the crowd that had gathered to try the tasty squares now dispersed, murmuring amongst themselves and pointing at Estella, who stared straight ahead in disgrace and dejection.

"The Shire just isn't ready for brownies yet, Estella," said Fatty patting her shoulder.

"They're called tasty squares!" screamed Estella as she threw the cover back over the platter of unfortunately futuristic pastries. Sensing that the Bolger booth was no longer a pleasant place they wished to linger, Pippin and the girls started to slowly back away. Fatty gave Pippin a beseeching look and Pippin mouthed, 'Meet me later.'

* * *

Frodo Baggins deftly meandered through the surprisingly thick crowd around the Brandybuck pavilion. He was even more surprised once he reached the front because the mass of hobbits seemed to be focused on neither the Food and Drinks booth nor the Mathoms and Trinkets booth, but on a great curtained area in between with only a haphazardly painted sign for a display. Several older hobbits sat on either side at the usually popular stands which were now fairly deserted compared to the mysterious new attraction. They pretended not to peer out of their booths and glower at the crowd that now ignored them. Frodo, however, ambled over to see if he could get any information out of these distant relations.

"Good afternoon, ladies," said Frodo brightly to Esmeralda and Hilda, who were both absentmindedly chopping great blocks of cheese. He could see Mentha, Melilot, and Celandine milling about in the background but they took no notice of his greeting.

"What's so good about it?" said Hilda grumpily as she pulled out a new block of cheese, seeing as the last one was already as sliced up as it could go.

"Hello there, Frodo," said Esmeralda. "Don't mind Hilda, she's just irritated about that silly new booth the boys have been working on."

"As you are and as are most of us regulars," added Hilda, shaking her knife at Esmeralda.

"Have I come in at the wrong moment?" said Frodo warily as he wondered whether he shouldn't have just gone to the Mathoms booth instead. "I was hoping to find out what that was all about... and perhaps buy myself some lunch. I could return later if now is not a good time."

"Oh, nonsense! Stay and have a bite," said Esmeralda as she began to prepare him a plate. "I'm afraid we know as much as you do about that curtain, though. Merry and his friends have been very secretive about the whole affair."

"Isn't that ridiculous, though?" said Hilda as she threw several slices of cheese onto the plate. "He's our first customer all day and why? Because of that preposterous project! And I'll tell you something else: I bet it won't even be worth the hullabaloo it's getting now!"

"Hilda!" gasped Esmeralda. "Doderic and Ilberic have been working on it for months! How can you say that?"

Hilda shrugged as she finished chopping the new block of cheese and moved onto a roll of vaguely meat-like appearances. "What does it matter? You know they're hardly the brains of the outfit. Your Merry is in the same boat. It's that Berilac that's come up with the plan and it's him that's making them act so strange now."

As she ranted, Frodo watched her daughter and the two other Brandybuck girls quietly slip out the back. He was torn between wanting to see what they were up to and wanting to wean more information out of the older women.

"I'm sorry to hear about that," said Frodo as he picked up his plate and put down some money (which Esmeralda promptly refused and stuck back in his pocket). "Do either of you know when their booth or exhibit is supposed to open?"

"Soon I think, but then they've been saying 'soon' for several hours now," said Esmeralda with a shrug. "Why don't you stay a while? You can eat your meal in peace and catch up on Brandy Hall gossip."

"Tempting though that is, I think I'd better go find Peregrin and make sure he finds his way here," said Frodo as he began to shuffle away. With a wave, he added, "I'll be sure to return for dinner, though!"

As he left their sight, he headed not quite for the infamous curtain but the side where he could see the girls attempting to peek inside. Melilot was sitting on her sister's shoulders while Celandine perched precariously on a tower of stacked crates. It didn't seem like they were making much progress, as they could barely see over the top of the curtain.

"Can you see anything at all like that?" said Frodo as he approached them, all the while chewing on a pickle with an amused look on his face.

"Not really," said Melilot as she strained her eyes. "But it's hardly the point."

"Oh?" said Frodo as he watched Celandine climb down and pull out a damp and nasty crate that had been hidden behind Mentha's long skirt. He wrinkled his nose as he saw that it was filled with rotten fruits and vegetables.

"It's only fair," said Celandine apologetically in response to Frodo's suddenly horrified expression. "This is just what happens when someone treats as poorly us as our brothers and cousins have."

Frodo watched in shock and disgust as Celandine handed Melilot the rotten items one by one and the younger lass chucked the fruit and vegetables over the curtain. Within half a moment he could hear shouting from where the repugnant objects were landing. As a volley of half-squashed and moldy tomatoes came flying back over, Frodo made his quick getaway and was happy to find himself involved with neither side. And as he headed away from the Brandybuck pavilion, he hoped wherever Pippin was he wasn't getting into such a filthy mess.

* * *

There were several lines in the petting zoo. As it so happened, Mundee had chosen the shortest one, though that was hardly saying much. It stretched so far ahead that no one could even see where it started.

"What are we even waiting on this line _for_?" said Pippin, cranky to have been wheedled into coming to the petting zoo with the girls. Molly was eager to see some "exotic animals," as she had it in her head that there'd be more than just farm animals. Adorable baby farm animals, but farm animals nonetheless.

"You're taller than us; why don't you just look and see?" said Mundee, growing equally grumpy at his sulking. She wasn't particularly fond of waiting on lines, either. Pippin craned his neck and stood on his toes, but to no avail.

"Not nearly tall enough," he said. "I'd have to be as big as the great Bullroarer to see from all the way back here."

"I reckon Bullroarer wouldn't be complaining so much if he were here," grumbled Mundee.

"You know, I bet by the time we get to the front, it'll be nightfall and the zoo will be closed," said Pippin folding his arms.

"Don't say that!" cried Molly suddenly. "I want to see the oliphaunt!"

Before Pippin could point out all the logical discrepancies with her statement, Mundee shook her head warningly and he shut his mouth. It simply wouldn't be any use.

"I'm sure we'll get there soon," said Mundee patting Molly's arm gently. "The line seems to be moving faster now."

Indeed it was, but not because people were getting to do or see whatever they were on line for, but because many were wandering ahead to listen to a fight someone was apparently having in the front. Mundee could hear the shouting now and recognized the voice, much to her dismay and annoyance.

"Oh bother," she sighed. "I'd better go see what's the matter. Save my spot!"

She ran up ahead, pushing through the thickening crowd, meanwhile leaving behind an annoyed Pippin and a pleased Molly. After some unfortunately necessary shoving and jostling she made it to the front where her fears were confirmed. Her brother Drufo seemed to have gotten into a spat with the animal handler in charge and the argument must have escalated rather quickly. Both the boy and the older hobbit were rather red in the face.

"Drufo, what in the world is going on?" she said as she made her way over to him.

"_He's_ not letting me in!" said Drufo as he pointed an accusatory finger at the fuming hobbit, who was now comforting what seemed like a very worried goat.

"This is the goat ridin' paddock! It's for wee lads and lasses!" shouted the hobbit. "How many times do I have to tell'ee! _Yer too big!_"

"_That's_ what this is all about?" said Mundee, unsure whether to laugh or pinch her brother's ear. "This is ridiculous. I'm taking you back to Mum and Dad."

"No, I don't want to go!" cried Drufo. "I want to ride the goat! I'm not too big!"

"I'm sorry about him, sir," she apologized to the goat handler. "He still acts like a tot sometimes."

"What's a big ten year old like that want ridin' on little Pernilla anyway?" said the hobbit as he continued to pet Pernilla, who was still rather shook up.

"I'm fourteen!" shouted Drufo as Mundee began to drag him off.

"All the more reason to leave my Pernilla alone!" yelled the hobbit causing Pernilla to bleat anxiously.

Mundee ravaged Drufo with a flurry of threats as she headed to the back of the line, but she fell into stunned silence when she found Molly waiting on the line by herself.

"Where did Pippin go?" she asked.

"Ooh, is Pippin here? I liked him!" piped up Drufo.

"He _was_ here, but then he had to go," said Molly. "A friend came and bade him follow."

"What friend? What are you talking about? Who was it?" said Mundee in agitation.

"I don't remember his name, but he was tall and fair and had bright eyes," said Molly trying to be helpful.

"That could be any Took or Brandybuck!" said Mundee as she rubbed her temple.

"Had a bit of a cleft in his chin," Molly added with a shrug. Mundee sighed. In the end it didn't matter who it was. The point was Pippin had scampered off at the earliest chance of escape without so much as a word of farewell. Whomever it was he'd joined was clearly more interesting and important to him.


	8. Further Free Fair Unfairnesses

**Shirelings**

**Chapter 8**

**Further Free Fair Unfairnesses**

Pippin felt slightly sorry for abandoning Mundee while her back was turned, but he was overall relieved to be gone. Moreover he was with proper company, Frodo having rescued him without knowing it. All he'd had to do was mention the new Brandybuck booth opening and Pippin had hopped over the fence.

"Who was that girl and what happened to that other one you'd been with in May?" said Frodo, his eyebrows arched in a funny crooked way. His memory was astounding.

"Ah, that was no one," said Pippin with a dismissive gesture. "Tell me about the Brandybuck booth: have you seen it yet? Do you know what the big secret is?"

"I know about as much as you do, if not less," said Frodo with a laugh. "I do know for a fact that it has gotten everyone in quite a fit. The female Brandybucks are irritated not to be involved with the project and the older Brandybucks are angry that the lads are diverting attention from their business."

"I'm surprised Merry had anything to do with it all," said Pippin. "He doesn't generally like to do anything that'll get him on anyone's bad side."

"I am sure he was only looking to keep everyone grounded and sensible," said Frodo. "It's a good quality to possess, being the voice of reason. Something you should look into if you ever want to take up your father's position."

"Oh, please Frodo, not you too!" wailed Pippin. "If I'm not being scolded for loafing and being useless, I'm chasing skirts or causing general mayhem, according to all my relations. I don't need you lecturing me as well. Especially not about a job that everyone just assumes I'm leaping to get my hands on, when I'd rather not think about it at all!"

"My sincerest apologies, Peregrin!" said Frodo, taken aback by the soliloquy. "If I had known you felt so strongly about this, I wouldn't have said anything."

"I'm sorry, Frodo," said Pippin as he calmed down, seeing that the Brandybuck area was already in sight. "I shouldn't have shouted at you, as it's not your fault. I just constantly hear about my shortcomings and it makes me wish very much to live a bachelor life like you."

"That's understandable," said Frodo kindly. "It's a quiet, peaceful life, but to be honest, sometimes it gets a little too quiet. It's nice coming out to these sorts of events and jumping into the noisy fray again."

"Well, a noisy fray is definitely approaching," said Pippin as they neared the crowded Brandybuck pavilion, where the curtain was finally opening.

The curious and now somewhat maddened crowd was surging forward, and though Pippin and Frodo tried to get closer, there was no cutting through at this point. Luckily the mob was mostly made up of short locals, allowing the taller Took and Baggins to see clear over the sea of heads.

When the curtain was fully drawn, it became apparent that there was another curtain beyond it. Before anyone could think to ask a question, a figure popped out from stage left. This was none other than Merry Brandybuck, looking somewhat discombobulated as if he'd just been pushed out. He stared at the crowd a moment as he organized his thoughts and then began to speak.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlehobbits and welcome to the _Brandy Hall of Innovation_," he said with a grand gesture to the punny sign above his head. Apart from a few coughs and awkward chuckles, the crowd remained mostly silent, unimpressed by the exhibit's title. Merry cleared his throat and continued.

"It is my great pleasure today to introduce you to a product, an invention, that will revolutionize the Shire as we know it!" He paused for any sort of audience response, but the silence persisted.

"What you will see today is the result of a collaboration between some of Buckland's brightest, most talented, and most hard working hobbits." Here there was a loud snort from an elderly farmer. Merry remained collected and plowed on with his speech.

"Led by my own cousin Berilac Brandybuck, our team worked in secret for months, hoping to bring you all a new device that will change Shire transportation forever and for the better. An invention that will bring greater ease to your work and allow you to see your friends and relatives more often!"

Now the crowd was starting to get intrigued. There came many mumblings and whispers as folks began to speculate.

"Yes, ladies and gentlehobbits, this invention will be sure to change your lives, bringing forth a new age of comfort and prosperity. Why, you sir," he said pointing at the snorting farmer in the front. "Where do you live, sir?"

"Why, here in Michel Delving, o' course," grunted the farmer as if this should be obvious to anyone.

"Do you have a brother?" A curt nod. "Where does he live?"

"Well, he's all the way in the Eastfarthing, in Stock," said the farmer. Then with a laugh he added, "He's lived in that queer country so long he's practically one of your kind now."

There came a smattering of laughs, but Merry pressed on.

"Imagine if I said you could visit him in a day's worth of travel," said Merry with a wink.

"I'd say you Brandybucks are as cracked as the rumor goes," said the farmer, causing a few of his companions to chortle roughly. Merry decided to give up on the coarse curmudgeon.

"And yet, ladies and gentlehobbits, that will soon be entirely possible thanks to the wonderful invention behind these curtains," he said loudly to the crowd.

"What is it then?" came a shout.

"Ah, just a moment, just a moment," said Merry as he held up his hand. Pippin could tell he was now thoroughly enjoying the attention. "The curtain will be pulled back in a moment and all be revealed, but I ask only that you keep your wits... for what you are about to see may very well shock and amaze you!"

Then turning backstage, he yelled, "Doderic! Ilberic! The curtain! Now!"

The dark green fabric now began to pull apart, causing the crowd to push even closer forward and crane their necks to see better. When the curtain was fully removed, however, they stood stock still and said nothing. For now in front of them stood a wooden tank full of water with what appeared to be a very detailed toy boat moving in a circle on the surface. Few in the audience could hear the whirring and chugging of the boat's miniature engine or could see the smoke issuing from its little chimney.

"How's that supposed to change the Shire?" came a heckle from the crowd.

"Well, if you'd take a look you'd see the boat is moving of its own accord," said Merry gesturing behind him.

"So what? It's just a toy!" came another shout. At this point Berilac charged onstage, his face beet red.

"Don't you people understand? It's a prototype!" he shouted.

"Berilac Brandybuck, everyone!" said Merry, trying to maintain the excitement of the increasingly disinterested crowd. "The mind behind the design!"

"What's a protto-tape?" said the farmer in the front. "How's it gonna get me from here to Stock in a day?"

"It's a smaller version of what we want to build one day," said Berilac slowly, hoping someone would understand the concept. He raised his voice as he saw people begin to leave, shaking their heads. "If we can raise enough money, we could build several large scale steamboats that could travel the Shire's rivers, transporting people and goods! It would change everything!"

Despite his zeal, most of the audience had already stopped listening. The crowd was dispersing, many folks muttering about how loony and strange Bucklanders were. Pippin and Frodo were finally able to get closer, only to see the Michel Delving farmer wave his hand at Berilac and turn to leave as well.

"It's a great idea! It would make travelling so much easier!" Berilac was starting to panic as he watched the crowd grow thinner and thinner. "Don't you people understand what this is? This boat is the way of the future!"

"That boat couldn't carry a field mouse," cackled one of the last audience members as he too left.

"Well, it's not like we could put a life-sized steamboat on display!" screamed Berilac at the heckler. But it was already too late. There was almost no one left apart from Pippin, Frodo and a few Brandybuck relatives who weren't sneaking off in shame.

"Oh, I give up!" said Berilac as he tore off his hat and threw it on the ground in frustration before stomping off. Doderic, Ilberic and Merimas took this chance to come out of hiding.

"I guess we can take it from his exit that it wasn't a smashing success?" said Doderic. Merry shook his head with a sad half-smile.

"It's too bad," said Ilberic. "It really was a good idea."

"Does this mean we can go see the rest of the fair now?" said Merimas timidly.

"Of course," said Merry. "Go on now, go have a proper good time."

The lads gave a whoop and ran off to go exploring (but not before they had a real meal). Merry shut the curtain and joined his friends.

"Hullo there. What did you two think? Was that absolutely abysmal?"

"Well, your presentation was rather impressive up until your cousin started screaming at everyone," said Frodo. "But I can't imagine why you thought the overall idea would work on bunch of farmers. If anything you should have just taken it up with your father."

"I tried, but he wouldn't approve it unless we impressed 'regular folk,'" said Merry. "Judging by the look he is giving me now, I would say the chance of us getting started on the larger project is slender to none."

He could see his father chatting with Odovacar Bolger over by the Mathoms booth. Neither looked particularly impressed. Fatty Bolger was approaching them now, however, and he looked pleased and excited.

"Hello all!" he said as he came up to them. "When does the show start?"

"I'm afraid you just missed it," said Merry as he started to head off. "And there won't be another showing."

"Oh, no, why's that?" said Fatty as he followed the others.

"Hecklers and rustics didn't appreciate the brilliance of the invention on display," said Pippin.

"Oh? What was it?"

"Well, we didn't get a very good look at it," said Frodo. "But it was something like a self-moving boat? A little model based on a bigger design that might one day traverse the Shire's rivers."

"Might, but probably won't," sighed Merry.

"That's too bad," said Fatty. "Why don't you invent a self-moving wagon? That might be more popular than a boat. I can't say I'd be too thrilled myself, to tell you the truth."

"I think you might be onto something, Fatty," said Merry. "Why don't you work on that, though? I'm too hungry and parched to think about any more inventions."

And so they walked off, leaving the Brandybuck pavilion, unaware that three girls were now sneaking into the curtained off display.

* * *

By the time they'd wandered over to the South-Western quadrant of the fair, they'd eaten heartily and had a few ales. It was just as well, because the sun was setting and Pippin was ready for some tomfoolery. And though the others wouldn't admit it, they were in the mood to let loose as well.

It had been a surprisingly stressful day for nearly everyone except Frodo, whose only worry had been that Sam was working too hard on his behalf. However in passing the Baggins-Gamgee-Cotton booths, he'd noticed that Sam and Rosie were missing and figured wherever they were, they were probably having a nice time together.

Now, however, they were passing the Took booth and Pippin crouched behind Fatty in an effort to hide himself. Fatty did not appreciate being used thusly, but did nothing to give Pippin away. Instead he, Frodo and Merry waved at Pervinca, Barty and Pimpernel, who watched over the booth.

"Have any of you seen Pippin?" called out Pervinca.

"No, but I'm sure wherever he is, he's being a good, responsible lad," replied Merry. The others could barely keep from laughing.

Once they were finally out of Pervinca's sight, Pippin stood up straight and embraced Fatty.

"Thank you, Fredegar! You are king among camouflage!" he exclaimed.

"Bah, gerroff me," said Fatty as he shook him off. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Shh, it's a surprise," said Pippin putting a finger to his lips. "Just follow me. You'll know soon enough."

Merry and Frodo had some idea what this might be based on rumors they'd been hearing, but didn't want to say anything. Their guesses were proven right once they saw a long line of excited male hobbits that stretched to a small luridly painted pink booth.

"So there _is_ a kissing booth! It wasn't a joke," gasped Fatty. Pippin only grinned in response.

"I don't know about this, Pip," said Merry hesitantly. "I'm not sure it's my sort of thing."

"Well, we're already on the line, so might as well," said Pippin. Indeed, the line had grown to where they stood and now people were waiting behind them. As the line moved, they instinctively moved along with it.

"I don't think this is for me, either," said Frodo in a distant voice. He was fingering something in his pocket. "I'm too old, anyway."

"Nonsense! You look as old as any of us!" said Pippin. "At any rate, just stay until you get to the front and if you get too frightened, just step out. No one will bind you down once it's your turn."

Frodo and Merry decided this was a reasonable plan, even if the overall idea was incredibly silly. It was probably all for the best that they stayed, if only to watch out for Pippin and Fatty. Fatty, surprisingly enough, wasn't being as apprehensive about the affair as he usually was about any of Pippin's half-baked ideas. Before they knew it they were nearly all the way at the front and several lads away from their turns. Now Fatty began to show his true colors.

"Oh, what if I am shunned and told to leave?" he worried out loud. "That would be terribly embarrassing. I think I'd rather just step out with Frodo and Merry."

"What and miss getting your first kiss?" said Pippin with a smirk. Fatty looked scandalized.

"It wouldn't be my first! You don't know!"

"All I know is that you're acting rather oddly for someone that's already been kissed before," said Pippin. "Listen, what's the harm in having a bit of fun? Odds are it'll be fine and you won't come away shunned or spurned or whatever you think will happen."

"But think of the humiliation!" Fatty looked to Merry and Frodo for reassurance. "Tell him this is ridiculous!"

"I'm staying out of this," said Merry as he stepped off the line.

"It is quite ridiculous," began Frodo, "but it's already your turn and I don't see how you'll get out of it without making an even bigger fool of yourself."

Frodo was right. Without Pippin or Fatty even realizing it, they'd absentmindedly moved to the very front of the line. They could now see two pretty Hobbiton girls sitting at the front of a desk, a box of coins sitting in between two glasses of water. Pippin recognized them as Gardenia Bracegirdle, an attractive but gossipy lass, and the very buxom and rosy-cheeked Petunia Chubb. Both now wiped their mouths with matching handkerchiefs they kept on their laps and smiled at the lads.

"Who's up first?" said Gardenia. Fatty shakily raised his hand. "That'll be ten pence. In the coffer, there you go."

Fatty hastily dropped a full shilling and stepped up to the desk. He was blushing and looking anywhere but at Gardenia. Fortunately the girl wasn't shy and gave him a warm peck on the cheek. Fatty covered his mouth giggling and dashed off to join Frodo and Merry.

"Your turn now, dear," said Petunia to Pippin with a saucy wink. Suddenly Pippin felt his stomach drop. All the excitement he'd been feeling had washed away and was now replaced with an all-encompassing sense of dread. He couldn't for his life imagine why he thought this was such a fantastic idea.

"Come, come, pucker up," said Petunia. "I don't bite."

Gardenia sighed with agitation. "Long line behind you, you know."

Pippin leaned in close, but squeezed his eyes shut. He could smell Petunia's perfume and feel her breath as she moved in. The moment seemed to last an eternity. But just as he felt her nose touch his, he heard a shriek on his right and jerked his head away. Petunia fell back into her seat with a huff.

There standing in the middle of the lane was a livid Mundee being very much restrained by Molly and Drufo.

"You abandoned me so you could go kissing hussies?" she screamed at him.

"Hussies?" said Gardenia and Petunia simultaneously, very much offended.

"Some friend you are!" shouted Mundee. Molly and Drufo were all but hauling her away now. Everyone was staring and a few lads on the line were laughing. Pippin was mortified.

"You're nothing but a tramp!" That was the last thing Pippin could hear, even though Mundee continued shouting insults as she was dragged away from the scene.

"Who was that, your wife?" said Gardenia with a snort.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea who that lunatic was," lied Pippin. "Where were we?"

Just then Merry dropped some money in the coffer and forcibly removed Pippin from the booth.

"Hey, what was that for?" said Pippin angrily as he was pulled off to the side where Frodo and Fatty were bent over in laughter.

"You've caused enough of a scene for one day," said Merry. "If you'd have stayed there, who knows what madness might have ensued."

"How was any of that my fault?" said Pippin as he brushed himself off.

"First of all, you became friends with that emotionally unhinged girl," said Merry as he listed off the grievances on his hand. "Second, you apparently abandoned her today, which would make a sane lass turn monstrous, never mind your deranged acquaintance. Third, you decided to do this kissing booth, which is just asking for trouble in every way."

"That poor thing," said Frodo as he wiped his eyes. "You've gone and broke her heart, the poor dear."

"I can't be bothered with it if she constantly wants attention," said Pippin. "All girls want attention."

"Is that so?" said Pervinca, causing Pippin to jump nearly a foot in the air. "Why don't you come with me and explain that fascinating theory? Right after you explain why you left Barty with the booth all day long."

Pippin winced but allowed himself to be led away. He waved weakly at his comrades, who shook their heads but waved as well.

"Well, speaking of empty posts, I'd better go see how my fruit and vegetable stand is doing," said Frodo. "It's been a pleasure, chaps. I hope the rest of your evening goes better than it will for poor Peregrin. Farewell for now!"

Frodo left now as well and Merry and Fatty found themselves at odds for how to spend the rest of the evening. Regardless, they decided it would be better to head toward their families' areas, so they would be ready when it came time to pack up. Moreover Fatty didn't want to linger near the kissing booth any longer; he was still blushing something terrible and clutching his cheek. Merry had a somewhat ulterior motive as well: he was hoping to catch a glimpse of Estella, and maybe catch a word or two, what's more.

As they approached the Bolger booth, Merry tried to strike up conversation.

"So did Estella win anything at the baking competition?"

"No, it's really rather sad, actually. She made these delicious brownies- er, tasty squares- but Lobelia hated them. I guess they were so good they overwhelmed her. Anyway, she banned Estella from the competition for life."

"My, that's going a bit overboard, isn't it?"

"I'd say." They were now at the booth, but it seemed empty. "Well now, I hope she hasn't abandoned her station, as well. Where is that girl?"

"Pooh, and it seems all the pastries are gone, too," said Merry as he looked around. "I was hoping to try something."

Fatty looked at him incredulously. "I wouldn't count on it."

Merry frowned. "Is she still sore at me?"

"Are you still sore at her?" said Fatty with a pointed look. Merry furrowed his brow. "Precisely. This will never blow over until you both decide to become bigger persons."

Merry rolled his eyes and started to say something, when he heard a noise, as if a large object had been dropped. "Might she be packing up the wagon?" he said as he headed for the back of the tent.

"That would make sense," said Fatty as he followed. "The wagon's parked outside the back. She could probably use our help with the heavier crates and things."

Once they reached the wagon, however, they couldn't see anything other than a platter of tasty squares lying on the ground. Fatty scratched his head and looked inside the wagon, which seemed very empty. Merry scanned the area and thought he heard a cry from a nearby wagon. He hurried over and there in the shade, he saw what looked like two figures struggling. He stepped closer and his eyes adjusted, revealing a disturbing sight: Ollie Underhill, his least favorite hobbit, was pressed up against Estella, who he'd pinned up against the side of the adjacent tent.

"What do you think you're doing!" shouted Merry as he lunged at Underhill. Underhill let go of Estella and made a run for it, only to get punched in the face by Fatty, who promptly cradled his aching hand. Merry was about to leap onto the cad and pummel him senseless, but Estella held him back, giving Ollie the chance to get up and make his escape.

"Why? After what he was doing to you?" Merry looked at Estella's wrist which now sported a rather unsightly bruise.

"It doesn't matter," said Estella as she pulled away.

"How can it not?" Merry just couldn't understand her sometimes. Most of the time, now that he thought about it.

"That _really_ hurt," said Fatty suddenly, as he continued to hold his sore hand. "You'd think after you get in a fight once you'd get used to doing that, but no..."

Estella and Merry looked from Fatty to each other and smiled. Realizing they'd locked eyes, they then turned away awkwardly.

"Thank you for... for helping out," said Estella lamely.

"You're welcome," said Merry, equally lamely.

"It doesn't change a thing, though!" Estella blurted out, looking up at him.

"No, of course not! Why would it?" said Merry loudly.

Fatty stared at them, utterly confounded. They were really the most ridiculous couple he'd ever met. Well, no, Filibert and Poppy had been a rather strange pair. But Merry and Estella were definitely up there. Way up there.

"Er, I'd better head back and help them disassemble the stage," said Merry as he started to back away in a general Eastward direction. "Fatty, it's been good seeing you again. Goodbye."

When Merry disappeared, Estella collapsed onto the ground and exhaled loudly. Fatty slumped down next to her, feeling the need to say something to comfort her, but not quite knowing what the right words were.

"What's that Underhill doing here anyway? It's not like his family even makes anything worth selling," said Fatty, screwing up his face in disgust. The Underhills grew vegetables, but somehow theirs was always more bitter than other families' produce.

"Freddy, you know why he was here," said Estella simply.

"Are you going to be all right?" Fatty asked in all seriousness. Estella nodded, but after a moment shrugged.

"Do you want me to get you anything?" he said. She shook her head. After a pause she leaned her head on his shoulder.

Fatty wrapped his arm around his sister. He wanted to tell her everything would be fine or that things would eventually work themselves out. But he didn't know that for a fact and somehow didn't feel words like that would comfort her right now. So he just sat with her.

* * *

Saradoc Brandybuck and Odovacar Bolger had strolled through the fair all the way to its center, which was right by the closing petting zoo. They could see Paladin Took chasing his youngest grand-child out of the pig paddock. How the elderly Thain had ended up with that task was beyond anyone's comprehension but he managed to wrangle the tot quite successfully and came up to them, holding her in his arms.

"Evening, fellas," he said with a big smile. "Surviving the fair all right?"

"Well, we are, yes," said Saradoc with a chuckle. "But I can't say the same for our kids. Merry and his cousins failed to raise interest in some newfangled contraption they built."

"And my Estella has been kicked out of the baking competition for making too good a cookie," said Odovacar. "Or something to that degree. She was very sullen about the whole ordeal."

"Well, I have no idea what my brood's been up to today," said Paladin. "I got lost wandering the Northern section, but then I met some distant relations. It was quite fun, actually. Oh, here comes one of them now!"

They all turned to look and saw Bandogrim Took being led to the petting zoo by his son, who seemed very exasperated.

"Look, boy, it's already closed, so there's no point in bothering anyone," said Bandogrim to Drufo. "Besides, your sister made it sound like you were the one causing trouble to start with!"

"I wasn't! She's lying! Dad, you should have seen it! That old codger was being so rude-" Drufo was cut off by a shout from Paladin.

"Ho there, Northern Tooks! How goes it, cousin?"

Bandogrim looked darkly at Paladin, but surprisingly came over, dragging his boy along with him.

"Good evening," he said curtly. Paladin shifted Laila under his right arm and patted Bandogrim with his left.

"Good to see you again," he said as he continued to pat Bandogrim, much to the younger Took's annoyance. "Have you met Saradoc and Odovacar yet?"

"I met Mr. Bolger at Saradoc's party," said Bandogrim plainly. "Though I've known Saradoc for some time before."

"What did you think of the party, eh?" said Odovacar, nudging Bandogrim in the rib. "Be honest, we like to hear an outsider's opinion."

"He's not an outsider, he's family!" said Paladin, as he wrapped a thin arm around Bandogrim's neck. The conversation was getting more and more irritating, but for propriety's sake he had to maintain a good appearance.

"I enjoyed it thoroughly," said Bandogrim.

"Better than a Took party?" said Paladin.

"I've only been to the parties my own family has thrown. They have always been entertaining."

"Bah, you're no fun," said Odovacar. Bandogrim stared at him icily, all the while maintaining a somewhat too firm grip on Drufo, who was growing restless and now made faces at Laila.

"Oh, let's ask Frodo Baggins," said Saradoc as he spied Frodo riding down the road in a wagon with the Gamgees. "Here he comes! Hullo there, Frodo!"

Frodo waved and then asked Sam to stop the wagon so he could hop out and chat with his relatives. He assured Sam he'd make it back to the inn he was staying at in one piece and pressed Sam to go on without him. The wagon rolled on and Frodo came up to the group.

"Hello everyone," he said brightly. Frodo smiled at the children and Laila hid her face in her grandfather's armpit.

"Frodo, we need your expert opinion," said Paladin. "Which of the Old Families throw the best parties?"

"Now now, I won't be getting into an epic feud, if that's what you're trying to do," said Frodo.

"Nonsense, boy, we just want your fair perspective," said Saradoc.

"To be frank here, though, he doesn't _really_ have a fair perspective," said Odovacar. "For one thing, he's a closer relation to you two. For another, he's liable to favor his own parties best."

Everyone thought this over, seeing as Frodo did indeed throw a party in Bilbo's honor every year, and it often proved to be the talk of the Shire for some time.

"What about our parties?" said Drufo, interrupting their silence. "None of you've ever been to our parties before."

"Drufo, hush!" said Bandogrim.

"The lad is right," exclaimed Paladin. "You're Tooks, you deserve to be called an Old Family, and yet you're not even given a part of this competition."

"Whoa there!" said Saradoc. "Is this a competition now?"

"It is!" said Paladin, stomping his foot. "We shall all throw our own respective parties over the next year, and whoever has the best party, wins!"

"Win what? And how will the winner be decided?" said Odovacar. They paused in silent thought once more. Now Frodo spoke up.

"What if we put it to a vote? Let the guests decide," he said.

"Too many people, it would take too long," said Saradoc.

"I have an idea," said Odovacar. "Each family gets one representative who has to judge each party after its over."

"But he doesn't know he's a judge!" said Paladin excitedly. "So he's giving his earnest opinion!"

"That's actually rather clever," said Bandogrim suddenly. "We're in. North Tooks gets Yule."

"But we always throw the best Yule parties!" whined Paladin. Seeing the look on Bandogrim's face, he instantly relented. "That's all right, Pervinca comes of age in February- we can do it then."

"And Frodo gets his birthday party in September, of course," said Saradoc.

"Bilbo's birthday party," corrected Frodo. Saradoc and Odovacar exchanged brief pointed looks.

"Dear Bilbo will be turning 128 this year, won't he?" said Paladin. "He's trying to beat the Old Took, eh?"

"It's not a contest!" laughed Frodo. "Though I daresay he's probably giving it his best shot, wherever he is."

"Bless his heart," said Paladin. Saradoc and Odovacar shook their heads. Paladin was getting loopier every year and Frodo... well, Frodo had been moulded by the best, so it was no surprise he was the way he was.

"Moving along," said Odovacar. "I'll take March for when Estella comes of age."

"Ooh, our parties will be neck and neck, won't they?" said Paladin with a wink.

"I guess that leaves me with my birthday again, doesn't it?" said Saradoc calculating quickly.

"Why do you get another party?" said Odovacar. "This year's birthday _was_ your part in the competition."

"That's not fair! We weren't properly prepared! I didn't even know we were competing at the time," said Saradoc.

"He's right, Odo, it's not fair. Let him have next year, so we can come full circle with this whole thing," said Paladin. Odovacar sighed but nodded in acquiescence.

"Well, then, it's settled. The competition is on," continued Paladin. "Let the best family win!"

"Wait, what about the judges? Who are we all picking?" said Saradoc.

"We can decide that later," said Bandogrim, as he was anxious to leave already. "I have to find my daughter and niece, if you'll excuse me."

"That's quite all right, we can figure it out in our correspondence," said Paladin. "I'd better head back to my Tooks and see what the other rascals have been up to. Goodbye for now!"

They all quickly disbanded, promising to see each other again soon and write even sooner. Each one was excited, whether he chose to show it or not, and each was already scheming to make his party the most successful. And thus after a long day's worth of eating, drinking, haggling and general merriment, the Great Party Competition of 1417-1418 was given life.


	9. Frodo's Last Great Birthday Party

**Shirelings**

**Chapter 9**

**Frodo's Last Great Birthday Party**

Samwise Gamgee paused a moment in front of the door, hesitant to interrupt his master in the middle of what could possibly be important business. But he could hear the band start up outside and knew it was high time the host come out to greet his guests. People talked about Mr. Frodo enough as it was; what would they say if he stayed inside his house for his entire party?

No, that simply wouldn't do. Sam nodded to himself, as if responding to his own internal dialogue, and then knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" came Frodo's muffled voice from inside the room.

"It's Sam, sir," said Sam weakly. "Mr. Merry says almost everyone has arrived and he's wondering when you'll be coming out to join them."

At this Frodo opened the door and poked his head out.

"Give me a moment, Sam," he said before darting back in as quickly as he'd popped out. Sam wasn't able to give his head a proper scratch before Frodo came out again and this time left the room for good. Frodo locked the door and then began to briskly walk down the hallway.

"Sorry about that, Sam," said Frodo as he juggled the room key before stuffing it in his pocket. "I'm afraid I took a longer nap than I had wanted. I was a bit out of sorts when you knocked."

"Are you feeling all right, Mr. Frodo?" said Sam, growing just the smallest bit worried about his master's odd behavior. Frodo seemed both jittery and distant at the same time, if that was possible.

"I'm quite fine, I promise," said Frodo as they approached Bag End's exit. The sound of lively music filled all the rooms now and a few of Frodo's finer dishes seemed to be clattering around on their shelves.

"Should I tell Mr. Pippin to play quieter?" said Sam, noticing Frodo's slight frown at the bouncing porcelain. The frown disappeared almost as soon as Sam spoke.

"Not to worry," said Frodo. "What's a good Shire party if it isn't noisy?"

"I suppose you're right, Mr. Frodo," said Sam with a shrug. "Anyway, it's like my Gaffer always says-"

But his story was cut short as Frodo was whisked away by a swarm of relatives. Sam chuckled and began to make his way for his family's table, when he was stopped by a soft hand on his arm.

"What does your Gaffer always say, Samwise Gamgee?" said Rosie Cotton. She was wearing her prettiest party dress and had ribbons in her hair. Sam felt as if his mouth was full of wool.

"Erm, hello Rose," he finally coughed out once he was able to stop staring at her dumbly. "You look very blue tonight... er, that is, your dress is very blue, more blue than you usually wear... not that I care, of course... well, I care, but... oh, what were you saying?"

Rosie laughed, but a kind gentle laugh, not the sort of mocking jeer he might get from Ted or the other rude fellows at the Green Dragon.

"I just wanted to hear you finish your story," she said with a smile that gave him terrible butterflies. "But we don't have to talk if you'd rather do something else."

Sam's eyes bulged and he swallowed hard. "I don't quite follow," he stammered.

"Well, we could dance," said Rosie, a charming tint coming into her cheeks. However, his lengthy silence caused her gaze to lower and her smile to falter. "But if you have something better to do, I reckon I'd understand..."

"No! No, I have nothing better to do!" he squawked as she begin to turn away. He grabbed her hand and forced her to look up again. "That is to say, there's nothing I'd rather do than dance with you, Rose Cotton."

Rosie regained her smile, and now Sam was no longer stammering or fidgeting, but smiling in return. Together they walked off onto the dance floor, just in time for a new number.

* * *

Up on the stage that had been assembled for the party, Pippin was scanning the crowd while strumming on his lute. He grinned to see Frodo taking up his proper role as host, greeting the few remaining families to arrive. It had worried him and Merry how withdrawn Frodo had been all day, let alone the rest of the week. But now he finally seemed to be in high spirits, as one ought to be on his birthday.

"Are you ready for a break yet?" said Merry, who'd walked up to the stage without Pippin realizing it.

"What? No, of course not! We've just started," said Pippin. Behind him, Folco Boffin and the two hobbits from Overhill that completed their quartet were still going strong on their instruments. His fingers weren't even beginning to get sore, so why quit now?

"Well, I just thought you'd want to go say 'hello' to your friends," said Merry with faux-innocence. Pippin sensed there was something he wasn't telling him.

"I've already said 'hello' to almost everyone here that I know," said Pippin, trying to remember if he forgot anyone. "What are you getting at?"

"Nothing. I just thought you'd want to personally greet your favorite Northern relations," said Merry, placing an extra emphasis on _Northern_. Pippin seemed to get his gist now and thoroughly blanched at the thought.

He looked towards the party entrance where his fear was confirmed: Frodo was now shaking hands with Bandogrim Took while his wife smiled a bright fake smile, his son looked about cheerfully, his niece stared into space, and his daughter glared at the ground.

"Why would Frodo invite _them_? Does he even know them?" said Pippin, attempting to continue strumming along with the beat despite the churning in his gut.

"Didn't your father tell you? Everyone loves the North Tooks now, apparently," said Merry. "They'll be coming to all our parties from now on."

"Since when? Oh, no one tells me anything!" wailed Pippin. Folco shot him a stern look and Pippin winced apologetically. Though he was able to keep in tune, his complaining seemed to be distracting the other players. Merry found this terribly amusing as he sat himself on the steps by the stage.

"Wait, why are you so happy about this?" said Pippin. "Mundee irritates you something awful, remember?"

"Oh, that is certainly true, I won't deny it," said Merry. "But luckily for me, I haven't actually crossed her in any real way. And even more luckily for me, I have the freedom to run and hide, because I did not volunteer to play in the band tonight."

And with that Merry strode off.

"Well, it's not like you could even play in the band!" shouted Pippin, desperate not to wind up the loser in this scenario. "You can't even sing all that well!"

Yet despite having the last word, Pippin felt unsatisfied as he watched Merry join Fatty and Frodo in what appeared to be a lively and entertaining conversation. He turned to see where the North Tooks had gone (and whether Mundee was skulking up towards the stage to further publicly berate him), but to his surprise they were already gone. He frantically looked around, hoping she wasn't about to sneak up on him and launch another attack, but fortunately she was nowhere in sight.

In fact, Mundee had no intention of coming anywhere within his vicinity that evening. She was still quite sore about the numerous incidents at the Free Fair and wanted nothing more than to be as far from him as possible. Furthermore, she had expressed multiple times throughout the past two weeks how little she wanted to come to the party at all, but they'd ignored her pleas and dragged her along regardless.

Now all she could do was sit at their table, enjoying a nice sulk while her mother attempted to smooth down her hair and her messy collar.

"I hardly think it needs to be said, but I would appreciate if you stayed out of trouble this time," said Delilah Took. "Not to mention if you stayed away from that Southern Took boy."

Mundee scrunched up her nose, while Molly sat up perkily and began to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Mother, you know I will have nothing to do with that cretin," said Mundee as she continued to glare at the ground.

"All the better, then," said her mother in a surprisingly bright tone. "Try not to pout so much and have a reasonably good time."

Before Mundee could argue, her mother swept away to go join her father in bantering with the people they seemed to want to impress suddenly.

"I don't understand what this is about, but I don't like it," grumbled Mundee.

"What do you mean, cousin?" said Molly, her eye transfixed upon the stage where the band played.

"All my life I've wanted us to go to parties in the other farthings, to socialize with other Big Families," began Mundee. "But they've never given so much as an ounce of thought for them. In fact, I've always had the feeling my parents rather detested them. Especially the Southern Tooks. But now look at them!"

Molly looked away and saw the strangest sight: her uncle, usually taciturn and even austere, was now laughing uproariously at some joke the Thain had apparently made.

"Maybe your parents have just realized they've been wrong about the other Families all this time?" suggested Molly, ever the optimist.

"I very much doubt it," said Mundee as she continued to eye her parents' strange behavior. "They're up to something. I know it."

"Well, doesn't that just mean we'll get to see more of the others, then?" said Molly hopefully.

"I suppose so. Unfortunately," said Mundee with a deep sigh.

"I don't think it's so bad. I rather hope one of the lads will ask me to dance today," said Molly, her gaze returning to its previous point of focus. "They're awfully handsome, don't you think?"

"Oh, Molly, you'll sit here all night doing nothing if you're going to wait for someone to ask you to dance," said Mundee rolling her eyes. "Just go and ask someone yourself, before you become an old maid."

Molly looked at Mundee somewhat slyly. "Can I ask _anyone_? That is, you wouldn't mind?"

"Goodness, of course I wouldn't mind!" exclaimed Mundee. "I hardly care who you dance with. Do what you want, for heaven's sake."

"Oh, thank you, cousin! This will be a wonderful night!" said Molly, kissing Mundee on the cheek before dashing off into the crowd.

Mundee shook her head and stared forlornly at the empty table. She was reluctant to get up and ask for anything, because that would mean talking to anyone. As she contemplated her conundrum, who should sit down next to her but Pervinca Took!

"Hello there, dear!" said Pervinca, clearly in a jolly mood. "Long time no see! How are you?"

"Oh, not very well at all, I'm afraid," said Mundee melodramatically. "I have quite a cold, you see, but my parents refused to let me stay at home alone. They made me come all this way and I fear I haven't dressed for the weather."

Pervinca arched an eyebrow at the display, sensing all was not as it seemed. Mundee hardly looked ill and it was a terribly warm day, considering it was late September. Nevertheless, she would play along.

"My goodness, that's dreadful!" she said, clapping her hands to her cheeks. "How very unpleasant it must be for you to be sitting here, all exposed to the elements."

Mundee nodded morosely, not catching the other girl's sarcasm.

"Why, I know just the thing," said Pervinca as she suddenly stood up and pulled Mundee to her feet. "I'm sure there are some spare rooms inside Bag End where you could rest and protect yourself from the wind. I'll just go ask Frodo and-"

"Oh, no you mustn't!" said Mundee, already growing embarrassed at the amount of attention she was getting. She'd only wished to be left alone and now she'd be made into a spectacle. "We shouldn't bother him at his own birthday party!"

Here Pervinca paused in thought and looked towards Frodo, who was being thrown into the center of a circle dance.

"Hmm, I suppose you are right; it certainly would be unfair to bother him now," she admitted. But then she got another idea and began to drag Mundee towards the dwelling. "We'll just bypass his permission; I doubt he would mind. He's a very genial hobbit."

No matter how much Mundee protested now, Pervinca was relentless. She only stopped when Ilberic Brandybuck suddenly popped up in front of her.

"Er, hello, Pervinca," he said shyly. "I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind joining me for a dance..."

"No time now, Ilby," she said as she brushed past him. "Maybe later!"

As she led Mundee through the entrance, Mundee couldn't help but notice the color in her cheeks.

"That lad fancies you a bit, doesn't he?" said Mundee, hoping to catch Pervinca off guard and possibly free herself. Pervinca blushed even deeper, but continued to walk down the hallway.

"Oh, I don't know about that; he's just a very silly fellow, that one," she said before stopping front of a familiar door. "Ah, here we are. My brother and cousin usually stay in this room when they visit Frodo. I doubt you shall be disturbed here."

Mundee tried to protest, but found herself shoved inside anyway.

"I'm going to close this latch here, so anyone that passes by will know not to open the door," said Pervinca sweetly, pointing at a latch on the outside of the door.

"Wouldn't that just lock me in?" said Mundee, growing annoyed and somewhat worried. She didn't know Pervinca to be malicious, but then again, she didn't know Pervinca very much at all to start with. Perhaps Pippin had indeed had reason to fear her and his other sisters.

"Don't you worry about a thing, dear," said Pervinca patting her on the head in a rather patronizing manner. "You just rest and I'll come get you when the time is right. Have a pleasant nap!"

And with that she shut the door and closed the latch. Mundee exhaled loudly and crossed her arms. How was it she was at the party not ten minutes and had already gotten herself into what thoroughly qualified as 'trouble'?

"And why am I always getting locked in at these parties?" said Mundee, kicking the door and stubbing her toe. This was too similar to her Brandy Hall cellar dilemma for her comfort. And yet... the beds looked rather inviting, now that she looked at them.

After arguing with herself a moment longer, she caved in and lay down on the bed closest to the window. It had a bit of a smell to it, but a pleasant one that reminded her of bacon and pipeweed and fresh grass. Within minutes she had dozed off into an easy nap and was cross no more.

* * *

As Pervinca walked out of Bag End grinning to herself, amused at her own clever bit of mischief- it had been quite some time since she'd done anything of the sort, after all- she was accosted once again by Ilberic. This time he had a limp, sorry-looking bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.

"What's this? For me?" she said as he shoved them at her. "But whatever am I to do with them?"

"Well, put them down at your table, I suppose," said Ilberic with a small smile. "And then come dance with me?"

The request came out sounding rather awkward and uncertain, which really didn't impress Pervinca, who had other plans at present.

"I'm sorry, Ilberic, but I'm afraid I can't- not now, anyway," she said as she went past him once more. "I have to tend to my sister, Pimpernel. She's rather pregnant, you know."

Ilberic did know and continued to walk next to her, matching her brisk speed.

"She is very pregnant indeed to be at a party such as this," he said. "Don't you think she should be at home now?"

At hearing this, Pervinca stopped and shot Ilberic a very pointed look.

"Oh, is that what ladies are meant to do? Stay home all the time like trophies? Never going out or enjoying parties?" she said, hands on her hips. Ilberic went quite pale and stammered in horror.

"N-no, that's not... that's not at all what I meant!" he sputtered.

"I see how you are now," said Pervinca, her nose in the air. "I see how your mind works and I'll have none of it. Good day!"

Ilberic stopped in place and watched her join her sister and brother-in-law at their table. Pimpernel looked ready to burst and Barty looked eternally grateful for Pervinca's appearance. His wife seemed to be getting increasingly temperamental as the date drew nearer. Ilberic paused to think when the date indeed was, but at that moment Merry sidled up to him.

"That's no way to win a lass's heart, Ilby," he said, wrapping his arm around his cousin. "You must be firm, but understanding. And always charming to the last!"

"Oh, that's fine advice coming from you," said Ilberic as he pulled Merry's arm off. "You talk big for someone who can't even ask the lass _he_ fancies for a dance."

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Merry, thoroughly affronted.

"Nothing, never mind," said Ilberic as he tried to escape. But Merry followed him and spun the younger lad around.

"Would you care to elaborate on your sentiments?" said Merry, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"No, not particularly," said Ilberic, wincing. But Merry's sharp look forced his tongue. "Oh, you know what I'm talking about! You're still in love with that Bolger girl and there she is sitting alone, looking as bored as death, and you're telling _me_ how to deal with Pervinca. At least _I_ bothered to approach her at all!"

Merry was surprised to find himself speechless. Ilberic certainly had a point, even if he didn't want to admit it.

"There, are you content?" said Ilberic waving the pathetic bouquet at him. "Can I go get blind drunk now?"

"You may, although I wouldn't recommend it if you want to get Pervinca to dance at all tonight," said Merry in a far more pleasant tone. "And, if you don't mind, I will take these," he added, as he snatched the flowers away. "They may come in handy later."

"Do what you wish, they didn't help me in the slightest," said Ilberic glumly before ambling away.

Merry took the moment to look towards Estella, who was sitting by herself at the Bolger table, truly looking, as Ilberic had pointed out, bored as death. He contemplated the sad bouquet and then looked back at her. Estella was resting her chin on her fist as she stared vacantly into the distance. He bit his lip, thinking to make a move, and then quickly reconsidered, throwing the flowers to the ground and then following Ilberic, possibly to get blind drunk as well.

Estella, meanwhile, was amazed that for once her brother was having more fun at a party than she. Fatty was on the dance floor hoofing it with their cousin Ferdibrand Took and two pretty local girls. She found it especially amazing that no one had asked _her_ to dance yet. Usually in addition to one particular hobbit, there were at least three other lads that would ask her. But tonight, for some reason, she was a pariah. It was incredibly disheartening.

Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, her sworn enemy, Rose Cotton, plopped down into the seat next to her.

"Hullo, Estella," said Rosie cheerfully. "Isn't it odd to see you sitting here all lonesome?"

"Isn't it just?" said Estella dryly. She had little interest in chit chat with her arch pastry nemesis, who once again had gone home with the blue ribbon at the Free Fair. If she was here to brag about her victory, Estella couldn't be held responsible for the unladylike behavior she knew would follow.

"I thought I'd give Samwise a rest and pay you a visit," Rosie went on. "We've been on our feet all night and I reckon he's tuckered out. And you did seem in want of company, so..."

"So you thought you'd be charitable to poor dejected Estella, is that it?" said Estella, her ire rising. "Well, I'll have you know, I am perfectly content sitting here by myself. I hardly need your pity."

"Of course," said Rosie kindly. Estella glared at the saccharine sweet face, wanting very much to slap the understanding smile off her dimpled mug. "It must have been very poor for your spirits to be thrown out of the competition like that."

So that's where she was going. Estella should have known Rosie only wanted to rub salt into her wounds.

"Well, obviously!" said Estella. "How do you think I would feel after trying so hard all these years?"

"It must have been awful for you," said Rosie sadly. "I think it was cruelly unfair of Mrs. Lobelia treating you the way she did. She shouldn't have kicked you out, but that's my opinion."

Estella looked up at Rosie, somewhat astonished at what felt like earnest compassion.

"Do you really think that?" said Estella, unsure whether to trust her.

"Oh my, yes," said Rosie enthusiastically. "I've always admired you and thought you a good and proper rival, if you don't mind me saying so."

Estella looked away, sheepish. "Oh, go on. You're just saying that."

"No, really! It's the honest truth," said Rosie, taking Estella's hand. "Now who am I to compete with? The Boffins and their treacle? I hate to say it, but it's really no competition anymore."

Estella smiled, despite herself. "It's good treacle, though," she said weakly.

"No comparison," said Rosie shaking her head. "I'm sad I didn't even get to try your Tasty Squares. I heard tell they were uncommonly good."

"Well, maybe one day you'll get to try them," said Estella with a bolder smile. "You know, Rose, you're really a nice girl. It's too bad we haven't been friends before."

"That's mighty pleasant to hear," said Rosie. "I've always wanted to be friends with you, but then I had the feeling you didn't want my company."

"Now where did you get such a silly notion as that?" exclaimed Estella. "No, my dear, I think we shall be jolly good acquaintances now. Maybe it was for the best that I was banned from the competition."

"Well, I hardly believe that, but I am glad we don't have to be rivals anymore," said Rosie. "And now that we are friends, I think I should let you know there is someone that is very keen to have a dance with you."

"Oh?" said Estella as she looked around, her cheeks heating up. "Who is it?"

She knew who she hoped it was, but it couldn't be possible. She could see Merry on the other side of the pavilion, sitting next to his cousins engaging in what appeared to be a drinking contest.

"Why, my brother Jolly," said Rosie to Estella's surprise. She pointed out the good-looking Cotton fellow who stood with his brothers and the Gamgees, deep in conversation but looking at her instead. Estella couldn't say she was completely disappointed, as he seemed friendly enough, though it certainly wasn't what she'd expected.

"I never thought he even knew who I was," said Estella.

"Oh, yes, he knows of you indeed," said Rosie with a laugh. "After all these years of our rivalry, how can he not know? Say, would you like me to introduce you two?"

Estella mulled the idea over, but seeing as Merry wasn't getting up, she decided there couldn't be any harm in it.

"Why not? I need to stretch my legs anyway," said Estella as she rose. Rosie stood as well and happily led her over to her brother, who was more than eager to whisk her onto the dance floor. They had only done one reel around the floor when the song ended and the band ceased to play. The crowd let out a unanimous groan of disappointment.

"Sorry folks, but we've got to eat, too!" called out Folco as he descended the stage. "We'll be back in no time at all!"

Jolly and Estella both shrugged and then decided to go for a stroll around the garden. Merry watched this through a narrow and bitter eye before taking a mighty swig of his draught.

Pippin meanwhile had his eye all over the dance floor, searching for the source of his terror. The two boys from Overhill climbed off the stage and waited for Pippin to come down as well.

"Are you comin' or no?" said Jesse, the older of the two.

"You chaps go on without me," said Pippin as he continued to browse the crowd. "I'll come down when I'm good and ready."

"Suit yourself," said Mattie, the other lad. "All I know is I'm rightly starvin' and I ain't waitin' any longer."

The two headed for their table and set to feasting while Pippin gazed around anxiously. Finally Merry came over looking far less merry than his name suggested.

"Did you see Estella?" he said, sounding fairly aggravated.

"No, have you seen Mundee?" said Pippin. Merry stared at him as if he had just been asked whether he'd seen a barrow wight.

"I have not, but what does it matter?" said Merry. "Clearly if she wanted to quarrel with you, she would have already. Come down before you make a further fool of yourself."

Pippin wasn't so sure it was safe yet, but decided if there was a time to make a run for it, this was it. At any rate, his fingers could use a cool cloth. They were exceedingly sore after strumming so furiously for so long and...

And as he gazed down at his hands, he realized they were worse than just sore: they were bleeding.

"Merry! My hands! Would you look!" he cried aghast. Merry rolled his eyes, but when he looked at Pippin's hands, he too was horrified.

"What the deuce have you done to yourself?" he said, grasping Pippin's hands, which now shook in addition to bleeding.

"I didn't do anything!" said Pippin. "I was just playing my lute. Why should they start to bleed so?"

"Pippin, how long do you usually play for?" said Merry, a thought coming to him now.

"I don't know, not more than twenty minutes or so," said Pippin as he screwed up his face in thought. "Why?"

"Today you have been playing for well nearly two hours!" said Merry. Pippin stared at him as the realization dawned on him as well. He winced and then looked back at his hands.

"Oh, what am I supposed to do now?" he whined.

"Do? You will clean your hands, wrap them up, and then you will do nothing," said Merry as he led him toward Bag End.

"But what about the band?" said Pippin sadly as he stepped through the entrance.

"They will hardly suffer without you," said Merry pushing him down the corridor. "Either they can find someone to replace you or they will play with one fewer musician. It won't be the end of the world."

"Oh, I suppose not," said Pippin. "I don't imagine it will be very fun sitting on the sidelines, though."

"Well, you'll just have to deal with it like the rest of us musically challenged sods," said Merry.

"What, you mean watch the lasses you fancy dance with other blokes while you drink your sorrows away?" said Pippin with a cheeky grin.

"Now you're getting it," said Merry, clapping him cheerfully on the back. They continued down the hallway joking in such a manner until they reached one of the bath rooms. Neither noticed the closed latch on the door of their guestroom.

* * *

When they came back out, Pippin's fingers successfully bandaged, the band had returned to the stage and resumed playing without him. Spotting him as he approached the party area, Folco and the other lads shot him a questioning look. He merely held up his hands and they nodded in apprehension. Merry had been right, as the music didn't suffer without his presence and, in fact, there were already quite a few pairs back on the floor dancing again.

"And now we get smashed?" asked Pippin, the idea of drinking the night away growing on him enormously.

"That we do-" started Merry, before noticing something unsettling. "That is, after I get Berilac to stop strangling Doderic."

Without further ado, he ran off to separate his brawling cousins, leaving Pippin stranded on the dance floor. He was about to follow and either try to help or have a good laugh at the Brandybucks' expense, when the last person he expected hopped up in front of him.

"Hello Peregrin," said Molly looking unbearably chipper.

"Er, hello, Molly," said Pippin, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "How have you been?"

"Oh, very well, if not a little bored," she said. "I was hoping you would dance with me."

"Well, that's very direct, isn't it?" said Pippin, somewhat surprised at the straight forward request. From what he knew about girls (more importantly, what he'd been told by his friends) they tended to be very discreet and vague, causing lads much perplexity and heart-ache.

He looked over to see what Merry was up to, and, seeing that he too was now entangled in the fight, he decided to give Molly a shot, having little else to do.

"Oh, why not?" he said with a smile before extending his hand. When she gripped it hard, Pippin winced and added, "Mind the bandages, please!"

With that, they joined the spinning couples on the floor, Molly too excited to be dancing with Pippin to remember not to press on his fingers and Pippin attempting not to step on Molly's feet every time she squeezed his hand.

* * *

Back at the Brandybuck table, the fight had already dwindled away into nothing, with Berilac and Doderic clutching each other and singing drunkenly along to the melody. Merry nursed his sore jaw with a cold beer mug, and Merimas slipped under the table, falling into a deep sleep. Ilberic shook his head at the sad bunch and decided enough was enough. He was making a move and that was that.

"Wish me luck," he muttered before heading towards the Took table.

"Good luck," said Merry after removing his hand and cringing at the pain.

"G'luck!" sang out Berilac and Doderic.

Merimas only snored in response.

Ilberic walked up to the table, where Pervinca was busy chatting with Pimpernel and Pearl while their husbands appeared to be engaged in a rather one-sided arm-wrestling match. He loudly cleared his throat, causing Pervinca (as well as the other Tooks) to stop talking and look up.

"Pervinca, I tire of your abuse," he said. "You dismiss me too often and too callously."

She stared at him, utterly befuddled. He took a deep breath and then continued.

"But I will no longer take 'no' for an answer." Then in a surprisingly swift and strong motion, he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. "You're going to dance with me now and that's that."

Pervinca continued to gaze at him in silence, but now quite overcome with his stern expression and firm tone. Then just as he thought his knees would finally buckle, she broke into a smile and began to laugh.

"Oh, really now, Ilby! All that to-do so you could ask me to dance! Why, that's the silliest thing," she exclaimed.

"Well, will you dance or won't you?" he asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly. She sighed and linked arms with him.

"What do you think?" she said, before dragging him off to dance.

"How sweet," said Pearl and Pimpernel simultaneously.

"Boy needs some more guts!" grunted Joe. "That's hardly any way to charm a lady."

Barty took this moment of brief distraction to slam Joe's loosened fist down onto the table and then leapt up victorious.

* * *

Merry, who'd seen the entire strange performance, felt ridiculous babysitting his drunk cousins while everyone and his mother-in-law was having a splendid time dancing. As he ruminated over the topsy turvy world he'd found himself in where Pippin had a dance partner and he didn't, he suddenly noticed Jolly Cotton leading Estella back into the party enclosure. He decided this was his best chance. And anyway, if Ilberic could win over his lady, he certainly could. Or try, anyway.

He stood up and boldly walked up to the pair, blocking them off from their path to the dance floor.

"Hello Jolly," he said politely. "Mind if I cut in?"

"Well, as a matter of fact-" But before he could finish, Estella was speaking over him.

"Jolly, thank you for strolling with me," she said. "But I think I shall join Merry now."

Jolly looked somewhat crestfallen, but then smiled crookedly and shrugged before leaving them to their business. It was disappointing but not uncommon for partners to be passed around at parties in such a manner. In the end he'd enjoyed the company of one of the prettiest lasses in the Shire, and that was nothing to shake your fist at.

Merry and Estella, however, remained standing where they were, as if rooted to the ground. The awkwardness from the Free Fair seemed to have returned in full.

"Did you have a nice time with him?" said Merry, trying not to sound jealous but merely inquisitive.

"Oh, yes, it was very pleasant," said Estella avoiding eye contact. "Though I have to say, there seemed to be something missing."

"Yes, and what would that be?" said Merry, perking up significantly. Estella looked up him, blushing rather furiously now.

"Oh, Merry, are you going to ask me to dance or not?" she said, unable to contain her mirth. Merry felt the lovely feeling of butterflies in his stomach return.

"Estella, you would do me the highest honor-" Once again Estella was forced to interrupt.

"That's quite enough! Let's go!" she said as she took his hands and practically skipped onto the dance floor.

Pippin smiled to see his favorite couple reunited once again. They looked incredibly happy and it warmed his heart to see Merry truly fitting his name after months of alternating melancholy and feigned contentment.

And to be perfectly frank, he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he was having a nice time as well. Molly had stopped squeezing his fingers painfully and wasn't talking much, so altogether it was pleasanter than he'd expected. Although, she did seem to be getting more out of the dance than he was, what with the way she'd wrapped her arms around his waist and had shut her eyes. Furthermore, he wasn't really getting that odd sensation in his gut that he usually did when... well, it didn't matter, did it? He was pleased and that was that.

His sister, Pimpernel, was not very pleased at this point, though. Pearl and Joe had just left her to go dance, as well, and it seemed like she and Barty were the only couple left that weren't dancing.

"I want to get up," she suddenly announced. Barty stopped counting stars to look over at his wife.

"What is it, dear? Another trip to the loo?" he said.

"No, Barty, I want to dance," she said. Barty nearly choked on his spit.

"But dearest, surely you can't think you're in any condition-"

"I want. TO DANCE."

Well, there was no more arguing after that. Despite knowing full well that she was due any day now, Barty reluctantly came over and helped her up to her feet. He continued to try to convince her to sit back down as he walked her slowly over to the intensely crowded dance floor, but she'd have none of it and forced him to spin her. As he fearfully obliged, her expression of glee to be moving again turned into one of shock and horror.

"Barty, I think I do need to go to the loo now," she whispered.

"What? I can't hear you!" he shouted over the din.

"I said, I need to go to the loo," she said louder. Still, it was no use. The music and the revelers were drowning out her words.

"I think my water just broke!" she finally shouted. At this, everyone immediately grew silent and stopped dancing.

"Good gracious, just now? Just here?" exclaimed Barty, feeling a mixture of terror, surprise, and excitement. All the nearby dancers moved away, very much perturbed by the conversation and the puddle by Pimpernel's feet.

"Well, heavens, where do you think? Honestly, Barty, sometimes I-" But Pimpernel wasn't able to finish as she suddenly doubled over in pain. Just as Barty helped her up and started to lead her to the house, Pervinca, Pearl, and their mother Eglantine dashed over.

"Pim, are you all right? Is it time?" said Pearl gently as she joined Barty in helping Pimpernel along. Pimpernel could only nod as a wave of excruciating pain hit her, causing her to groan loudly.

"All right, out of the way! Pregnant lady coming through!" shouted Pervinca as she jostled curious hobbits out of the way. "My sister is going into labor! I SAID MOVE!"

"Goodness, whoever thought it would happen so soon," said Eglantine as they brought her to the door.

"I did, actually," said Barty. "I was very much against us going to the party, but _someone_ had to insist."

Pimpernel paused from hyperventilating to grab her husband by his shirt and pull his face down to hers.

"WE ARE HAVING A BABY," she growled. "NOW IS NOT THE TIME."

Barty gulped and tried to pull away, but her grip was now nearly vice-like and he had to be dragged down the corridor, stooping all the way through.

As they disappeared down the tunnel, Pippin came rushing toward the door. Pervinca, however, stepped in front, blocking him off.

"Husband and midwives, _only_," she said pompously. She stepped aside to let in two elderly gammers, but then blocked him off once more.

"She's my sister, too!" cried Pippin. "What am I supposed to do, stand around twiddling my thumbs?"

"Well, yes," said Pervinca. "That or whatever other nonsense you generally do."

Pippin tried to give her his most menacing look, but even a head shorter, Pervinca always beat him in the menacing looks contest. He skulked away, having seemingly given up. But in actuality he had a better plan.

He crept along the side of Bag End, making his way to the window he recognized as the one belonging to his guest room. He'd tinkered with it enough times that it could always slip open from the outside with the greatest of ease. Most of the other windows were a little more difficult to deal with, and could potentially cause a great deal of noise, notifying his sister and whoever else was inside that he was climbing in.

But now he pushed up on his window and it slid open like butter. He stealthily climbed in and silently slid the window back down. He was feeling very proud and pleased up until he turned around and came across the strangest, most horrifying sight: there, in his bed, lying sound asleep, was none other than Mundee.

He bit down on his lip to keep from shouting. After a moment, he managed to compose himself, and then quietly tip-toed across the room to the door. And instead of swinging open as he'd expected, to his greater horror, the door remained shut and wouldn't budge. Either there was something wrong with the knob or someone had actually closed the latch Merry had installed when they were younger. It was generally only used for games and they hadn't locked it in ages. To think that they'd forgotten to remove it and now he was stuck in a room with what was more frightening than a sleeping dragon... well, suffice it to say, he was very frustrated with his lack of foresight.

He now slunk back to the window and tried very quietly to open it. He couldn't risk waking Mundee or else who knew what further injuries he might suffer. Just as he'd managed to slide it as far open as it would go, he heard a rustling in the bed and then-

"Pippin, is that you?"

He panicked and accidentally let go of the window, allowing it to slide down and slam onto his bandaged left hand. He pressed his face into the glass, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Then swiftly he pulled his fingers out, turned around, and put on a friendly grin, pretending he wasn't in a vast amount of agony.

"Hi there, Mundee!" he said brightly.

"What's going? Why are you in my room?" she said blearily as she rubbed her eyes. _Her room?_

"I- I don't know why I'm in your room," said Pippin. "You tell me."

Mundee stared at him a moment, her eyes still hazy and distant. "Is this a dream?" she finally said, much to Pippin's relief.

"Yes! Yes, it is. This is a dream and I am not at all real," he said as he attempted to pull the window open again with his uninjured hand.

"No, that's not right," said Mundee slowly. "You're not wearing what you wore the last time."

Now this was interesting. "'Last time'? What did I wear last time?" Pippin knew he shouldn't encourage a conversation, lest she come to her senses, but this was too intriguing to simply let go.

"Um, some sort of odd black outfit," said Mundee as she struggled to remember. "I think there was a white tree on it? Anyway, it was different than this."

"Oh, that other outfit was getting hot, so I changed into this one," lied Pippin. Mundee nodded as if this made perfect sense. Then she cocked her head and smiled strangely.

"Well, why don't you come over," she said, patting the spot next to her, "and finish what you started last time."

Pippin's eyebrows shot up into his forehead. He felt as if he'd swallowed a stone. "What did I start last time?" he stammered, half afraid to hear what she was about to say.

"You were braiding my hair, of course." Then shaking her unkempt curls, she added, "But it's gotten all messy since then, you see."

Pippin breathed a sigh of relief, happy to hear it was only something bizarre and not something... well, disturbing.

"I'm sorry, but it'll have to wait another night," he said. "I'm afraid I must leave now."

"Oh," said Mundee glumly. "All right, then. Goodbye."

Pippin tried to open the window, but his present handicap made the simple task much more arduous than it ought to be.

"Can I beg you for a favor?" he said, turning back to her. She nodded enthusiastically. Apparently in her dreams Mundee didn't have a passionate hatred for him. "My left hand's a bit hurt, so could you open the window for me?"

Mundee came over and pulled the window open, allowing him to climb out successfully.

"Now, go back to bed and wake up," he said once he was outside.

"How do I do that?" she said, attempting to peer out and see where the music was coming from. Pippin blocked her view and pushed her inside.

"Well, it's a bit like going to sleep," he said. "You just go back to bed and lie down and then the next thing you know, you'll be awake."

"That sounds reasonable," said Mundee. Then patting him on the cheek, she added, "Good night then. Or morning. Whichever it is!"

She closed the window and lay back onto the bed. Pippin, meanwhile, shook his head, unable to believe that whole charade had actually worked. He wandered back to the party in a bit of daze himself, having forgotten why he'd tried to enter in the first place.

As Pervinca watched him saunter back to the party (and almost immediately get attacked by Molly), she suddenly felt as if there was something she was forgetting. Something she knew she ought to remember, because it was somewhat pressing and time sensitive. And yet as hard as she tried to think what it was, it simply wouldn't come to her.

But then she overhead a snippet of Pippin's conversation with his captor as the girl dragged him back toward the party field:

"You're very keen to follow me around today. Aren't you wondering where your cousin is?"

"No, why should I wonder? At home, Mundee slips off without me all the time."

Pervinca's eyes went wide as the memory of her earlier prank came flooding back. She darted into the house, and, hoping no one would sneak in to spy on Pim (though who in their right mind would?), ran all the way down the corridor until she'd reached the infamous room.

She quickly undid the latch and pulled the door open, finding to her relief that Mundee was actually having what looked like a rather pleasant nap. However, the jig was up and the dream had to come to an end. Pervinca came over to the bed and shook Mundee awake.

"Hmm, what is it now?" mumbled Mundee as she rolled over.

"Come, come now; it's time to wake up!" said Pervinca as she pulled the girl to her feet. "I'm dreadfully sorry I left you in here for so long. It just slipped my mind, you see."

"This isn't another dream, is it?" said Mundee as she rubbed her eyes. However, she jerked out of her sleepy reverie upon hearing a piercing and rather blood-curdling shriek.

"I assure you it isn't," said Pervinca as she now began to usher her down the hallway. But now Mundee was curious.

"Oh, now wait a minute! You can't just expect me to hear a thing like that and then shove me out the door without any sort of explanation!"

"I can and I do! Goodbye!" said Pervinca before giving her one last solid push out the exit and tightly shutting the door closed.

"Well, I never!" grumbled Mundee as she brushed herself off. It was quite a thing to go from a nice if strange dream into such a rude awakening. But her foul mood instantly lifted when a familiar waggish face appeared in front of her.

"Good evening, miss! And where have you been all night?" said Nibs Cotton, the friendly (and _very_ flirty) youth she'd met at the Free Fair.

"Oh, around..." said Mundee with a vague gesture at the door behind her. She was surprised the lad remembered her at all after the whole three minutes they'd spent conversing, but she didn't intend to show any overt excitement. That seemed to be her downfall with most fellows she took a liking to.

Fortunately, this tactic worked, as Nibs laughed in response, took her hand, and pulled her to the dance floor. She couldn't help but laugh as well, as he was quite an impressive dancer and was twirling her every which way. Through her blurry, spinning vision, she could see Molly and Pippin dancing nearby. For some reason now she couldn't find it in her heart to be angry at him anymore. And though she hadn't expected to see her cousin clinging to him so, it amused her more than anything.

Nibs suddenly tossed her in the air, and, in her brief moment above the crowd, she saw the most intriguing sight: Merry and Estella were slinking out of the party field, hand in hand. When she came back down to earth, Mundee knew she wanted to follow and see what they were up to. Last she'd heard they weren't exactly on the best terms with each other. To see them disappearing together was peculiar enough to warrant abandoning Nibs, no matter how charming his smile was.

"Oh my, I'm feeling so faint," she said, pulling away from him. "I need some fresh air."

"But we're outside," said Nibs as he followed after her.

"I mean I need to take a walk and clear my head," she said. "Alone, please."

Nibs shrugged and let her go off. Pippin, however, had witnessed the scene as well as Merry and Estella's getaway, and he wasn't about to let Mundee ruin things between the pair after they'd just patched things up. Even if it meant feeling the brunt of her rage.

"Molly, I need to use the outhouse," he quickly fibbed as he disengaged himself from her grip. "I'll be back in a little while. Dance with someone else."

Molly watched him run off feeling somewhat downtrodden at first, but then quickly shook off the mood and latched onto the newly available Nibs.

* * *

Mundee was able to follow Merry and Estella quite effectively by hiding behind a row of large bushes. Unfortunately, the bushes and the distance made it a bit hard to hear the conversation. She could only make out bits and pieces and it didn't seem to make much sense out of context.

"Merry... don't know... all this."

"Well, either... you're not."

"...still don't think... upset with you."

"...don't think... was wrong, either. ...same time... put that behind..."

"...do, too, but- hold on... hear something?"

"...probably just... maybe... field mouse. ...maybe a cat chasing... mouse."

Mundee stopped moving and held her breath, worried she'd be caught now. But fortunately they didn't think to investigate and kept on going. She was about to keep going, too, but suddenly someone behind her hissed, "Oh, no you don't!" and grabbed her by the foot, pulling her away. Before she knew it, she was lying face-down on the grass. She turned over and glared up at her attacker.

"What do you want?" she growled at Pippin who sat a foot away from her.

"You are not going to ruin this for them!" he growled back.

"Is that so?" She stood up and began to creep away, adding, "Well, watch me."

To her surprise, Pippin deftly leapt after her and tackled her to ground. This time he sat on her chest, forcing her to stay down and very nearly crushing her in the process.

"Argh! Get off me!" she wheezed.

"Not until you promise to leave them alone!" he said.

"Oh, fine!" she moaned. "I promise, just get off me!"

"Promise what?"

"I promise I'll leave them alone! Come on, you're flattening me!"

Pippin smirked and then complied. Mundee stood up with some difficulty and took several deep breaths.

"Of all the nerve..." she muttered as she smoothed out her grass-stained party dress. "Look, now it's more green than blue!"

"I like that color better anyway," said Pippin with a shrug. He glanced over the hedge and saw that Merry and Estella had wandered quite out of sight.

"Oh, what do you know? You're just a lousy ruffian!" grumbled Mundee as she stormed away from him, heading back for the party.

"Don't tell me you're still cross," said Pippin as he followed her. "The fair was months ago!"

"I don't even care about the fair anymore," Mundee called over her shoulder.

"Then why won't you talk to me?" said Pippin, a smile tugging at his mouth. Mundee stopped now and slowly turned around. She didn't look amused, and yet, she didn't seem so intimidating to him anymore. He couldn't understand why he'd been so afraid of her all night.

"Come on, cheer up," he said pinching her cheek. "You're at a party, stop sulking."

Mundee brushed his hand away, but he could tell she wanted to smile, too, even though she forced herself to scowl.

"You tackled me!" she squawked. "Not to mention the whole episode where you rudely abandoned me at the fair!"

"Aha!" exclaimed Pippin. "I knew you were still upset about that."

Mundee crossed her arms and stared him down. Pippin sighed and put his hands on her shoulders.

"I am sorry for abandoning you," he said sincerely. "It wasn't right and I'm a terrible friend for doing it."

Mundee contemplated this apology and then sighed as well. "I'm sorry for screaming at you in front of everyone. You can kiss whomever you want, even if they were fat hussies."

"They weren't fat _or_ hussies _and_ I didn't get to kiss anyone because of your antics," said Pippin, wagging his finger. "But I accept and forgive you. Friends again?"

He stuck out his hand and Mundee was about to shake it when she noticed the bandages.

"What happened here?" she asked as she turned the hand over.

"Oh, you don't want to hear about that," said Pippin pulling his hand away. "It's a very long and boring tale..."

"Come on! I thought we were friends again? You're going to keep secrets from me?" said Mundee.

"Very well," said Pippin rolling his eyes. "I was playing with the band, and since I haven't played in a while, I guess you can say I was a little rusty. And, well... after about two hours my fingers were well past blistered, if you take my meaning."

"I think I get it," she said, cringing at the mental image. "No need to elaborate."

"Indeed." Then speeding up his pace, he added, "Now, let's try to get back before all the ale is gone."

"Hear hear," said Mundee as she sped up to match him. "I've barely had a chance to enjoy this party properly, what with Pervinca locking me in your room."

"Is that why you were sleeping?" said Pippin. He instantly regretted saying anything.

"How did you know I was sleeping?" said Mundee, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"I heard you snoring," said Pippin quickly. "You were very loud."

"I do not snore!" Mundee shouted, before giving him a light kick in the bottom.

"You do, too. I heard you all the way from the party field," said Pippin in mock seriousness. "Which, by the way, we are approaching now, so you should behave yourself."

"I'll behave myself if you stop making up great big lies," said Mundee. Pippin snorted and Mundee stuck out her tongue at him, but that was the last bit of true silliness before they entered the party field.

"You know, I had the strangest dream earlier..." Mundee began, but Pippin cut her off.

"You'll have to tell me about it later. Look up there," he said, pointing at Bag End. The front door was open, letting the light spill out, and they could see a silhouette of a tall figure smoking a pipe in front of the entrance. "That looks like Barty."

"So?" said Mundee, failing to recognize the significance.

"You don't know, do you?" said Pippin, growing increasingly excited. "Pim went into labor while you were asleep. She's having a baby."

"What?" exclaimed Mundee. Pippin nodded vigorously. "That must be why Pervinca shoved me out so roughly before when I heard that scream."

"Yes, and if Barty is out there..." said Pippin, pointing at his brother-in-law again. Mundee seemed to follow his trail of thinking.

"Do you think...? Already?" asked Mundee following Pippin as he changed his course to head up to the door.

"I don't know, but I'm not waiting to find out!" he said, rushing up the hill. Mundee followed, but couldn't go as fast, both due to her shorter legs and the lingering soreness of her body from Pippin's attack. She watched as Pippin reached Barty, asked the obvious question, and then whooped with joy. She laughed to see him hug the other hobbit and jump up in the air, clicking his heels together. He then ran back towards her, face aglow.

"I'm an uncle!" he shouted.

"You were already an uncle," she said chuckling.

"You know what I mean!" he said as he began to descend the hill.

"Well, is it a boy or a girl?" she said as she tried not to fall while rushing downhill after him.

"It's a girl! They haven't picked a name yet, but it's a healthy little girl!" he gushed. "Come on, let's go tell everyone!"

And then after avoiding each other all evening, they spent the rest of it going around the party spreading the news.

* * *

The next day after all the guests had left, Frodo found a haggard-looking Sam picking up litter in the garden. He pulled out the little sheet of paper with the questions that had been agreed upon and then found a small pencil in his waistcoat pocket. This probably wasn't necessary since Sam would only ever have nice things to say about a party of his master's, but it had to be official so there was no choice but to get it over with.

"Sam, have a rest," he said, pointing at a bench. "Take a seat, my lad. I have a few questions for you."

Sam obliged, but seemed uncertain about the meaning of this request. "What's the matter, Mr. Frodo?" he said. "Have I done anything wrong?"

"No, not at all!" chuckled Frodo. "Relax, this is a trifle, but I'm afraid I have to do it."

He looked at the sheet and began. "On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate the party? With one meaning very poor, and ten meaning very good."

Sam hardly had to think. "Ten, I should say, sir. But what's this all about?"

"I can't tell you, Sam. Not now, anyway. But moving on... on a similar scale, how would you rate the food?"

"Er, ten?"

"And the drinks?"

"Ten, of course."

"And the decorations?"

"Well, now, I saw to that a bit, didn't I? With the garden, if you follow me. Can I say eleven?"

Frodo smiled as he wrote down ten. "And how would you rate the music?"

Here Sam paused. "Well, I want to say ten, but to be honest, it wasn't quite the same with only three players. So I'll say eight. No! Nine!"

Frodo wrote down eight, wanting to be fair to the other competitors. "Was there anything at all that bothered you about the party?"

Sam paused again, trying to think of something, but ultimately shook his head. "It was a mighty fine party, Mr. Frodo. Very fine, indeed. I can't think of anything I didn't like."

"Fair enough. Is there anything you think could be improved?"

"Well, like I said about the band. I suppose, next time make sure all your players are ready for the job?"

Frodo scribbled the comment down, but then Sam thought of something else. "Oh, and maybe we should have set up more lanterns? Rose Cotton told me her brother Nick couldn't find his way back home in the dark and ended up sleeping in the field. But then, she said he was very drunk, so I reckon that's neither here nor there."

Frodo added in "More lanterns" nonetheless. It was actually a substantial issue.

"And now the last one: what was your favorite thing about the party?"

"Well, now, that's a tough one and make no mistake," said Sam, rubbing his chin in thought. "I rather liked dancing with Rose, that was a good part. But, oh, how can I forget all that with Mr. Pippin's sister? It was so exciting. Imagine, a little thing like that being born here in Bag End."

"Yes, it was very special," said Frodo smiling as he remembered seeing the tiny wrinkled pink face. He'd been allowed to see the baby last night as well as in the morning when the Tooks (and Hornblowers and Burrowses) all headed back home. She was a sweet little thing, indeed.

"That's all the questions then, Sam," he said, pocketing the sheet. "Thank you very much for your time. You can go home and get some proper sleep."

"Oh, but Mr. Frodo!" said Sam as he stood up. "Who will clean your garden?"

"Don't worry about it, Sam," said Frodo. "Merry and Pippin are still here, so I can bother them after they wake up."

"Oh, if you say so, sir," said Sam as he reluctantly headed for the gate.

But then Frodo thought of something and called out, "Hold on, Sam! One more thing!"

Sam stopped and turned around immediately. "Yes, sir?"

"How do you feel about coming with me to Long Cleeve for Yule?" said Frodo, thinking of the next stage in their party competition. "I'm supposed to bring one guest and I thought you'd enjoy seeing another part of the Shire."

"Oh, I think I'd like that very much," said Sam. "I heard it's good hunting country. And you see all sorts of strange sights. Or so says my brother, Hal."

"Well, maybe Hal is right. We shall wait and see. But now you must go and rest. Goodbye!"

Sam waved farewell and went down the lane, thoroughly confused about his master's odd behavior and questions. But then, he was getting slightly odder all the time. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, especially if he was socializing with other families and making new friends.

It was certainly healthier than all those maps he poured over. Of course, Sam wouldn't mind going exploring one day, but he worried about his master. Sometimes he got the sense that Frodo wasn't there with him, even if they were in the same room. As if his mind had wandered off to distant parts.

No, it was nice to see him doing normal hobbit-like things, like throwing parties and attending them. And Sam didn't mind coming along, because someone had to make sure Frodo was actually enjoying himself and not _drifting_ again. And, for goodness sake, he was going to an Old Families' party! Samwise Gamgee, Hobbiton gardener!

It was exciting news, that was for sure. Now... if only he could break it to his Gaffer that he wouldn't be home for Yule.


	10. Yuletide Adventures and Mishaps

**Yuletide Adventures and Mishaps**

A harsh wind blew, nearly stealing Pippin's scarf clean off his neck. He grabbed it just as it was about to fly off and then wrapped it extra tight, tucking the ends under the top of his jacket. He rubbed his hands together and wished he'd dressed more appropriately for the trip. To his left sat his father, looking as jovial as always as he held the reins to the ponies leading their wagon. Pippin marveled at how the old hobbit managed to hold up so well after traveling for so long and then wondered whether it wasn't an act to cover up his discomfort.

"Do you want me to take over for a bit?" he said, turning to his father.

"What was that?" shouted Paladin, the wind apparently drowning out Pippin's question.

"Do you want me to take over?" said Pippin, now a bit more loudly. "It's getting chilly now. Do you want to go inside with the others?"

He gestured at the covered back part of the wagon, where the rest of their party was traveling, safely hidden from the elements.

"No, don't be silly, boy!" laughed Paladin. "What do you take me for, a geriatric? I can barely feel the cold!"

Pippin rolled his eyes at his father's bravado.

"I know you just want to drive and look like you're in charge," continued Paladin, much to Pippin's chagrin. "Don't worry, you'll have your chance on the way back. Since your mother won't be around, I'll be able to drink all I want so you'll have no choice!"

Pippin couldn't help but chuckle at this last note, though he still worried that his father was putting on a show. But he also knew it was futile to argue with him when he got like this. All he could do was read the map and signs so they'd get to Long Cleeve in one piece. Which, in all honesty, was easier said than done. The map was quite ancient and hard to read with tiny spidery handwriting, and the signs that weren't faded were fairly confusing and even somewhat misleading.

"I could have swore that last sign said we were two miles away from Long Cleeve," he said as he squinted at the map. "But it's been nearly an hour since and everything still looks the same."

Suddenly a head popped out of the canvas entrance.

"I can help you with that map if you'd like, Mr. Pippin," said Samwise Gamgee, who wasn't used to being a passenger.

"No thank you, Sam, I think I can manage on my own," said Pippin. "Why don't you sit back down? I imagine Priscilla and Jerry miss your stories already."

Sam shrugged and disappeared as suddenly as he'd appeared. Pippin's niece and nephew had become rather taken with the gardener and his colorful poems and stories over the duration of the trip. Their parents were grateful for the break from entertaining them and spent the majority of the journey napping, as did Frodo and the youngest Took, Laila. Pervinca listened to Sam's stories eagerly as well, but couldn't keep from missing her mother and other sister. Eglantine had decided to stay at Great Smials with Pimpernel, Barty, and the new baby. It made sense, but it was strange to have the family so divided at Yule.

This thought rested on Pippin's mind as well, but he was mostly excited to be visiting the strange region. Though he'd traveled there at least once as a boy, it had been quite some time ago and he barely remembered anything. And so now he anxiously looked at their surroundings to gauge how close they were to their destination. It was a trying task making out where they were; everything looked so similar. They hadn't quite reached the North Moors, but they were close enough that the region was drastically different from the the parts of the Shire with which he was most familiar. The land was a good deal flatter, for one thing, and there was a paucity of trees. The trees he did see, however, were strikingly different: tall, thin pines with peculiar needles instead of leaves. Even the grass seemed somehow different. He wondered what it would feel like under his feet.

As his mind wandered, his eye suddenly focused on an encouraging sight: a large, freshly painted sign that read "VILLAGE OF LONG CLEEVE: STRAIGHT AHEAD".

"I think we're here!" he exclaimed, as he jumped up in his seat to get a better look. The ponies whinnied nervously and he quickly sat back down. However, his shout hadn't gone unnoticed and soon the younger Tooks were poking their heads through the canvas to see for themselves.

Fortunately the sign was the first honest one they'd seen in several hours and within minutes they were riding through the town's main street. Local hobbits stared at them and said nothing, though Paladin waved with his free hand. The silence and the stares felt peculiar and even a bit disconcerting, but before anyone could think too much of the locals' manners, a familiar face darted up to them waving.

"Hullo there! Stop and let me on!" said Drufo as he jogged alongside the wagon. Paladin slowed down and allowed the boy to climb in.

"Good to see you again, Drufo," said Pippin patting him on the back. "You look taller, have you grown?"

"Hardly!" said Drufo with a laugh. "But it doesn't matter; let's get to _our_ Great Smials so you can all settle in. I reckon the other guests will be getting here soon, too."

And so with Drufo's directions they drove the rest of the way to the Northern Tooks' dwelling with ease. Great Northern Smials, as the place was called, looked just as large and magnificent as the Great Smials where Pippin and his family stayed. Here, however, the architecture was slightly different (a bit more pragmatic in design and less whimsical) and the vegetation was as well, of course. An older lad came up to greet them, and once they'd emptied out of the wagon with their things, he climbed aboard and drove it off to the stables.

"Now follow me," said Drufo as he headed up the cobbled path to the grand entrance. "Mum and Dad will probably be waiting. They'll want to say 'hello' before you're shown to your rooms."

Pippin didn't look forward to this meeting, but he put on a brave face for the rest of his clan, who all seemed relatively eager to meet their hosts, albeit tired from the ride up. He swallowed as they crossed into the hallway, which was narrower than the one at Great Smials but with a higher ceiling. As if on cue, Bandogrim and Delilah stepped out of a side door and approached their guests with bright unnerving smiles plastered on their faces.

"Welcome to our humble abode!" said Bandogrim, shaking Paladin's hand. "We'd love to give you a tour, but I'm afraid there's just so much to see to at the moment. You'll have to settle for my son as your tour guide instead."

And after shaking a few more hands and wishing them a pleasant stay, the two hurried off to go bark orders at the servants. The Southern company exchanged a few surprised looks but didn't linger long in the hallway, as Drufo was already scampering off to show them to their rooms.

It took some time to maneuver the entire labyrinthine estate, but at last nearly everyone had been settled into their rooms, and now the only one left was Pippin. Drufo actually had had to lead him out of the main smials and through a surprisingly heavily wooded area where a few cabins were grouped together.

"Normally we have enough room for everyone inside, what with it being so big," said Drufo as he unlocked the door. "But we don't usually have so many guests from all different farthings and especially not for Yule, so Dad said to put you and a few of your friends in here."

"And of course your father makes sure I'm as far away from everyone as possible," said Pippin with a small, wry smile as he entered the space and put his luggage down. To be fair, it was large and nicely furnished; very comfortable indeed. But it was a wooden cabin, not a cozy hobbit hole, and quite out of the way from things.

"Oh, there are worse places he could have put you, believe me!" said Drufo. "Matter of fact, I wouldn't mind switching places with you."

"What's wrong with your room?" Pippin refused to believe the boy's overprotective parents could shelter him in anything but the most cushioned and comfortable room old money could afford.

"Well, it's next to my sister, isn't it?" said Drufo, rolling his eyes.

"I doubt we could switch places then," said Pippin, suppressing a laugh. "It would defeat the purpose."

"What purpose?" said Drufo, not quite catching the drift.

"Never mind," said Pippin shaking his head. "I'll tell you when you're a tween."

Drufo cocked an eyebrow at him, but then shrugged and started to head out the door. "Dad wanted me to keep greeting guests so I guess I'd better head back, but I'll see you at dinner."

Pippin's ears perked up at the last part. "Dinner, you say? When is that, by the way?"

"Not for another hour, I'd guess," said Drufo as he edged out. "Goodbye!"

Pippin frowned as he was now left completely alone. It was actually somewhat surprising that he was so very alone, given certain people's tendencies to hop up on him at the oddest moments. He turned around quickly to see that there wasn't any leering face hovering behind him, only to foolishly meet the thin air.

"Well, I suppose there's only one thing left to do at a time like this," he said to himself in a determined tone as he raised his clenched fist dramatically.

Then he quickly closed the door and went into the cabin's den, where he dropped onto the couch and began to nap.

* * *

"I'm rather sure he's waking up now. Or having a violent nightmare. Either way, he's fidgeting quite a bit."

"No, no, he's always like that when he sleeps. Just leave him alone and focus on the game."

"All right, now his eyes are half-open. Don't try and tell me he's still asleep."

"You know wizards sleep with their eyes open."

"No, they don't!"

"They do! Frodo told me."

"Well, Pippin is hardly a wizard. Anyway, it's your turn."

"'Urgh' is not a word."

"Yes, it is. You've said it before yourself!"

Pippin took a deep breath before sitting up blearily to meet the sight of Merry and Fatty sitting at a table playing a board game. It took him a few seconds to remember that he was at Long Cleeve and they were rooming with him apparently.

"Well, look who's finally awake," said Merry without looking away from the game. "And just because I've made a certain sound before doesn't make it a real word."

"Good morning, Pippin. Well, evening. What do you think? Does 'urgh' count as a word?" said Fatty, turning to him.

Still a bit discombobulated from his nap (and also shockingly hungry), Pippin couldn't do more than rub his eyes and make an odd guttural half-sigh half-groan.

"See, that's a sound people make," said Merry pointing at Pippin. "That doesn't qualify it as a word."

"Hardly the same!" scoffed Fatty.

"How long have you two been here?" said Pippin finally. "And how long have I been asleep?"

"We arrived shortly after you did and you've been asleep since before that," said Merry. "So roughly five hours."

"Five hours?" gasped Pippin.

"Mhm," nodded Fatty. "You managed to miss both dinner and supper. Terribly unfortunate!"

"No wonder my stomach is grumbling so terribly!" said Pippin, clutching his belly. "And did no one think to wake me up?"

"Oh, we tried," said Merry. "You were impossible. Slept through everything."

"We slammed quite a few pots and pans and even threw water on you," said Fatty with a shrug. Pippin glared at him, but when he felt his hair it was as dry as if nothing had ever happened.

"You see? That's how long you were asleep!" said Fatty, following Pippin's thought process.

"It's too bad. You were sorely missed at the table," said Merry. Pippin arched an eyebrow at this.

"By whom?" he said in what he hoped was a casual tone.

"Well, _we_ missed you, of course," said Merry. "But there were others."

"Are you being vague on purpose?" said Pippin.

"Would I be vague in any other way?" said Merry with a grin. Pippin sighed and turned to Fatty but he could only shrug sheepishly.

"I wasn't really paying attention, I was preoccupied with the food, you know," he said. "It was very good, by the way."

"And I don't suppose either of you saved anything for me?" said Pippin, folding his arms. Merry and Fatty looked at each for a moment with matching grimaces.

"I'm afraid there wasn't anything left to save, Pip," said Merry earnestly. "Sorry!"

"So what then? Am I to starve while you two bicker over your game?" Craning his neck to see what it was, he went on, "Where did you even find that?"

"It was in the closet with the pots and pans! We started playing after we gave up on you!" said Fatty defensively.

"Anyway, you don't have to starve," said Merry. "I think if you go to the kitchen and ask around, someone might make you something. The servants aren't quite as prickly as their masters."

"Now you're being helpful!" said Pippin brightly as he stood up and began to head for the exit. "I'll see you chaps later! And by the way, Merry, I'm with Fatty on 'urgh.' Goodbye!"

With that, he disappeared through the door and Merry 'accidentally' hit the board with his foot, causing all the letter squares to shift irreparably.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" said Fatty, glaring.

"Like I said before, would I do it any other way?" said Merry, grinning once again.

* * *

It was a small miracle that Pippin managed to maneuver through the dark grounds and made it to the main estate with little trouble beyond the unShire-like temperature. It had been several hours since he'd followed Drufo to his cabin and he hadn't very attentive at the time. But luckily for him, he stepped into the main hall in one frosty but unharmed piece.

However, as he looked around, he realized nearly all the lights were out save for the occasional lantern, and there was no one around to ask for directions to the kitchen. He found it strange that everyone would be in bed already; back home in Tuckborough people always seemed to stay up at night, especially around holidays. Now as he wandered down the corridor in the dim light, he couldn't help but feel uneasy and wondered whether his hunger was worth the creepy trip.

"Now that's a silly thought," he suddenly said out loud. "Of course it's worth it!"

Suddenly the floor creaked in a nearby room, and after feeling his heart jump into his throat, he wondered why he ever spoke to himself when he was alone. Then he remembered he was looking for a person to ask for directions to the kitchen and felt very silly. He pushed the door open and stepped into the room... which, as luck would have it, turned out to be the kitchen. Except that it looked utterly empty.

"That's strange," he muttered quietly. Then in a loud but hesitant voice, he called out, "Hello? Is there anyone here?"

There came no response. He gulped but continued to wander further into the kitchen. The counters and tables were all impeccably clean, and if he didn't know that Merry and Fatty had been fed hours before, he'd have thought the place hadn't been used at all. The cold moonlight streaming in through the windows on the left gave everything a hard shadow and overall added to the eerie effect.

"Hello?" he called out once more. Still nothing.

He was about to turn around and head back to the cabin in defeat when he heard the floor creak yet again. He jumped and spun around but there was no one there.

"Come on," he said shakily. "I know there's someone there!"

He swallowed as he came deeper into the kitchen, almost to the very end, and was unnerved at how pitch black it was. The moonlight didn't reach it so the whole back area was drenched in darkness. He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a match. He struck it on the wall and now had himself a miniature torch with a very comforting warm glow. The little light it shed allowed him to see that there was another door at the back of the kitchen... and it was slightly ajar.

Did he dare trespass further and find out who or what was waiting in there? He took a deep if unsteady breath and decided he had come too far to give up now. He came up to the door and slowly pulled it open.

"Who's in there?" he said stepping in and holding the match out. He half expected some terrible ghoul to fly out and attack him. Instead he was met with a high girlish shriek and was attacked by a flying roll of bread.

"Ack!" cried Pippin as he dropped his match, losing what little light he had left and now finding himself fully enveloped in darkness.

"Who's there?" came a shrill and panicked voice from the other side of the pantry.

"Peregrin Took! I'm visiting from Tuckborough!" sputtered Pippin as he fumbled around in his jacket looking for another match. He hoped whomever he'd walked in on wouldn't get him in trouble with the head of the household.

"Pippin?" came the increasingly familiar sounding voice. "Is that you?"

"Yes? Who's that?" he said as he tried to strike match after match to no avail.

"It's me!"

"I don't know who you are!"

Finally he managed to get one to light and found that none other than Mundee was standing inches away from him.

"I think you do!" she said with a saucy smirk.

"Oh! It's you! Hello!" exclaimed Pippin, feeling very stupid. Mundee laughed and lunged at him, tackling him into a hug. Pippin awkwardly tried to keep the match aloft while being assaulted.

"Careful! This is my last match!"

"Oh, sorry!" she said, pulling back and letting him get his bearings.

"Why did you throw bread at me?" he said as he handed the roll back to her. She took it with a rightfully embarrassed expression.

"I, er... I was surprised, that's all," she said, now blushing something terrible. Pippin grinned when he realized what this really meant.

"You were frightened! Of me, of all people?" he laughed.

"I didn't know it was you!" said Mundee angrily. "You looked strange in the light and your hair is all different."

"Oh, right," said Pippin feeling his cropped coif. "Pervinca deemed it too long last month and made it her duty to cut it."

Mundee snickered, imagining the sight of Pippin's small but spunky sister launching herself at him with a pair of shears.

"So why are you here? It's the middle of the night," said Mundee with her hands on her hips.

"Well, first of all, it's really not the middle of the night and I can't understand why you North Tooks go to bed so early," said Pippin. "And second, the last time I ate was when we stopped to have tea before we arrived here. That was roughly at four o'clock. What's your excuse?"

"No excuse, you caught me!" laughed Mundee, hiding her face in her hands. Then lifting her head, she added, "I won't tell if you won't."

"Now, who in the world would I tell?" said Pippin with a faux-innocent smile.

"Better question is, what are you in the mood for?" said Mundee, gesturing at the pantry shelves surrounding them.

Two apples, four slices of cheese, three sausages, and several rolls of bread with butter later, Mundee and Pippin were sitting on the furthest wall of the pantry feeling thoroughly satisfied.

"I don't think I could have another bite," moaned Mundee.

"I could!" said Pippin. But then after a rather noxious belch, he decided against it. "That was good."

"It was, but supper was better!" said Mundee. "It's too bad you missed it; Daddy was being downright cheerful for once."

"I'm not there and your father is cheerful, what a surprise," said Pippin sarcastically. Mundee rolled her eyes.

"Oh, don't be like that. You know, the world doesn't revolve around you," she said.

"Why is it so impossible to believe your father hates me?" said Pippin.

"I don't know if you've noticed but he's not exactly the most pleasant hobbit in the Shire," said Mundee with a pointed look. "If he does hate you, he doesn't hate you any more or less than he hates most people."

"What will it take to convince you otherwise?"

"A direct threat?"

"Wonderful. I will certainly look forward to that." Pippin slumped down, his head coming down to Mundee's level.

"Cheer up, sourpuss," she said, nudging him with her shoulder. "The next few days will be fun. I heard tomorrow you're all going hunting on the moor."

"Oh, well, that might be nice," said Pippin, giving it some thought.

"Yes, well, you should probably go rest up then, shouldn't you?" said Mundee as she stood up and pulled him to his feet. "Early day and all that."

"I suppose so..." said Pippin, suddenly overcome with a desire to stay right where he was.

"Do you need help finding your way?" asked Mundee, sensing that there was something holding him back.

"No, I think I remember the way I came," said Pippin as he slowly shuffled out of the pantry.

"Would you like me to walk back with you anyway?" said Mundee, sidling up next to him.

After a loud and exaggerated sigh, Pippin smiled and said, "Oh, if you insist."

Mundee rolled her eyes and, taking him by the hand, began to drag him along.

As they walked through the windy woods between the smials and the cabins, they passed the time by catching up on all their adventures since Frodo's party in September. Pippin told Mundee about the excitement over the new baby, whom Pimpernel and Barty had decided to call "Jenny" after Barty's grandmother Jessamine, and she told him about the strange creatures she'd seen passing through the moor when she went camping with Molly and Drufo one night.

"They can't be real. Are you sure you didn't dream that whole thing up?" said Pippin, wrinkling his brow.

"I swear! Look, I'll just have to bring you along one day to see for yourself," said Mundee.

Pippin chortled and shook his head, but then stopped abruptly as he realized they were basically at the cabins.

"Well, this is it," he said gesturing awkwardly.

"Right then," said Mundee with a nod as she appraised his cabin. "Are you alone in there?"

"What?" sputtered Pippin, a bit taken aback at the peculiar question. "Er, no, Merry and Fatty are sharing the house with me."

"That's what I thought," said Mundee with an odd smile as she approached the little building. "Do you think Merry is still up?"

Pippin frowned; he didn't like where this was heading one bit. He quickly rushed up in front of her and blocked the way.

"I hardly think so," he said. "It's very late, you know. You should go to sleep, too."

"Hmm, that sounds a bit like the opposite of what you were saying back in the pantry," said Mundee, odd smile still firmly in place. Now Pippin furrowed his brow.

"I'm serious, though, you'll wake them up," he said, pushing her away from a window. "Get going!"

"You're telling me what to do in _my_ home?" laughed Mundee as she danced out of his grip to go peer in another window. "Anyway, you don't know that Merry would actually mind me waking him up."

"Come on, cut it out!" hissed Pippin. "If you don't stop it, I'll..."

"You'll what, exactly?" said Mundee saucily. Pippin had to stop and think of something that could hold some power over her, but then it came to him.

"I'll make sure you don't get invited to any more of our parties," he said, folding his arms.

"You can't do that," she said. Her grin was still confident, but her faltering tone spoke otherwise.

"Do you really want to risk it?" he said firmly. Mundee stared at him defiantly, but he stared her back down and at last she sighed.

"Oh, you're no fun," she said, waving at him dismissively. "But one thing before I go."

"Just one thing? Not forty?" said Pippin, raising a finger as well as an eyebrow. Mundee snorted at his sarcasm, but then suddenly grabbed at his hands. He held down a gasp while she scrutinized them closely.

"Looks like they healed well," she said, returning his hands to him after a moment. Sensing that he was extremely confused, she added, "After Frodo's party? The blisters?"

"Oh! Right!" said Pippin as the realization dawned. "Yes, they healed quickly."

"Have you played at all since then?" said Mundee. "Or are you worried you'll get hurt again?"

Her voice was now cracking slightly, as if she was desperately holding back laughter. But Pippin thought nothing of it, assuming that she was still in her strange overly excited mood.

"No, I've actually been practicing a lot more since then."

Mundee looked at him expectantly now, but he merely continued his thought and walked into a terrible punchline.

"I can last much longer now."

"WELL, IS THAT SO!" shouted Mundee before erupting into giggles.

It took Pippin a little while to digest the meaning of her laughter. But when he got it, he turned a most vibrant shade of crimson.

"Good night then!" sang Mundee as she skipped away.

Pippin shook his head and entered the cabin, only to find a half-asleep and irritated Merry standing in front of him.

"Took you long enough," muttered Merry. "What was that all about?"

"So you heard all of that, did you?" said Pippin. Merry nodded curtly, apparently very unimpressed.

"Well, er... sorry about that," said Pippin scratching the back of his head. "I think I was the butt of an elaborate joke just now."

"You can tell me all about it tomorrow," said Merry. "Now go to sleep."

He started to plod back to his room, but then stopped and turned around to add, "By the way, there were only two bedrooms, so you'll have to sleep on the couch."

"And of course they send me on a trip so they can claim the beds for themselves," grumbled Pippin as he settled onto the couch. He was beginning to feel as if everyone was conspiring against him. And so while pondering the many people apparently out to get him, Pippin dozed off once again.

* * *

The next day began with an early rise and a quick breakfast (by hobbit standards, anyway). By 7 in the morning, the sun finally rose and the troop of male hobbits had already trekked well onto the North Moors. Pippin was still groggy, but at least he was sufficiently warm, having put on as many layers as he had packed. It made movement a little less than ideal for hunting, but he wasn't counting on making much of a mark that day regardless. Now he waddled next to his father, who was not quite as bundled up and found the sight rather comical.

"Your mother would be so proud if she saw you now," said Paladin. "But I tell you what: if you fall down and can't get up, don't expect me to wait for you."

Pippin tried to make a witty retort, but only managed to half-groan half-whine in response. In front of them, Fatty was having a similar rough time of the trip. He was both overdressed and overweight, which made the long walk all the more torturous. His father wasn't one to miss a chance to tease his boy either.

"Come now, lad, this is nothing!" laughed Odovacar. "This is but a pleasure stroll compared to the journeys I used to take back when I was courting your mother. Why, I tell you, back in those days..."

As the elder Bolger drifted off into a long stream of consciousness ramble about the past, Fatty said nothing but glanced back at Pippin to shoot him a "kill me please" look. Pippin responded by yawning through his scarf, which he had wrapped nearly all the way up to his nose.

However, when Paladin and Odovacar had to stop and rest due to creaking joints and heart palpitations an hour later, Pippin and Fatty chose the high road and did not mock or leave their fathers. Despite their concern, the old hobbits insisted that they were fine and encouraged their sons to head off without them.

"What do we need you hanging around and nursing us for anyway?" said Paladin as he shooed Pippin away. "Can't even take care of yourselves; big lot of help you'll be here!"

"Go on now, lads," said Odovacar more gently. "We shall catch up with you later. Just need a bit of rest now, that's all."

And so Pippin and Fatty followed their fathers' instructions and left them alone, sitting comfortably on a log and smoking their pipes.

"Wish I were that rheumy and creaky," muttered Pippin. "Then I could sit around smoking all day, too."

"Our sisters have it the best, though," grumbled Fatty. "Sitting around inside all warm, doing nothing but relaxing all day."

As they trudged through the cold and the wind to catch up to their friends, who were now quite ahead of them, they had no idea of the dull drudgery the ladies were actually suffering.

* * *

"Diamond, how is your needlepoint coming along?"

"Er... not bad, I suppose. Almost done actually. Mum, could I go-"

"Molly dear, what do you think of your cousin's work?"

"It's very nice, but the colors are giving me a headache."

"There. Now that's hardly finished, isn't it? You'd better see that you fix it."

Mundee glared at her cousin, whose mother _wasn't_ in the room and forcing her to take up her least favorite activity. Molly was happily sitting next to her, doodling in her sketch book. For her lack of wits and tact, she had the gift of artistry, at least. Mundee had none of her skill and was growing more and more frustrated by the atrocious state of her own project. What was supposed to be an image of a quaint springtime scene instead looked like a gory massacre.

Unfortunately Mundee wasn't the only one going out of her mind. Pervinca stared at the clock on the mantel waiting for it to be any sort of mealtime so she could escape the quilt-making she'd been roped into by her sister and aunt.

Meanwhile Estella was reading a book... or at least trying to. It was difficult staying focused with all the sighs and coughs and short bursts of chatter; she seemed to keep reading the same sentence over and over again.

Pearl and Esmeralda Brandybuck were taking turns chiding Pervinca for not focusing on their quilt. They'd made nearly five patches each already and she was still stuck on the first one.

The only visiting lady that seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself was Rosamunda Bolger. She was having an easier time of her light reading than her daughter, and would titter and fan herself every few pages.

Mundee was beginning to consider "accidentally" pricking herself in an effort to escape, when there suddenly came the strangest interruption. A small flour-covered figure suddenly appeared in the doorway, drawing everyone's attention.

"Priscilla Hornblower, what in the world have you done?" gasped Pearl as she leapt up to examine her oldest daughter.

"Mummy, it's really actually quite a funny story, actually..." said Priscilla, as she squirmed under her mother's prodding.

"Moreover, where are your brother and sister?" said Pearl, as she realized the possible danger of the situation.

"That's mostly why I came to find you..." said the little girl hesitantly. "See, Jerry thought it would be good fun if we played hide and seek in the pantry..."

At this point it wasn't clear who had gone paler, Pearl or Mundee's mother. But all of the older women jumped up and rushed out of the room to help sort out the mess in what was definitely a swifter motion than one would expect. The remaining ladies stared at the very suddenly empty doorway in a collective daze.

But then with a laugh, Mundee put down her hideous project and stood up to stretch.

"Well, bless those curious kids! They'll keep my mum busy for hours, I'm sure!" she exclaimed. Estella looked at her askance.

"Aren't you concerned at all?" she said as she continued to pretend to read.

"Not really," said Mundee as she strode over to the nearest window and peeked out. "My mum's handled worse messes before."

"You would know!" said Molly cheerfully, to which Mundee responded with a loud raspberry.

"I meant about the children," said Estella, rolling her eyes. "They could be hurt."

"Nah," said Pervinca as she shoved the bothersome quilt off her lap and onto the floor. "I know my niece and she's not one for subtlety. If there had been any real danger, she'd have been in hysterics."

"That's a relief, I suppose," said Estella finally putting her book down. "But don't you think we should help?"

"Three kids, one big mess," said Pervinca, counting off on her fingers. "I think four competent women should be able to handle it."

Then she stood up and strolled over to the window to join Mundee.

"So what do you normally do for fun around here?" she said. "Because something tells me needlepoint and crafts aren't really a regular occurrence."

In all honesty, on any other day Mundee would have been outside skirting chores and lessons while exploring the countryside or trying to find mischief, but she rather figured this wasn't an option this time. If she had to entertain her guests now, she'd have to find something to keep _everyone_ entertained.

All three ladies gazed up at her expectantly, although Estella seemed more nervous than hopeful. This wasn't going to be an easy task.

"Oh, I don't know. There are so many options..." said Mundee as she wandered over to a cabinet. She started going through the drawers, hoping to find something that would solve her dilemma. "So many adventures and possibilities to choose from..."

Then suddenly she found the answer.

"But I think you all might like this." Then with a flashy gesture, she pulled out an old deck of playing cards. "How about a game?"

Molly and Pervinca's faces instantly lit up with excitement. Estella appeared to have reservations, but then shrugged off her doubts, physically as well as figuratively.

"I suppose we could try it out," she said as she put her book away. "There's nothing to lose, anyway."

"That's the spirit, Esmella!" blurted out Mundee as she began to shuffle the cards quickly. Estella shot her a nasty look, but otherwise ignored the comment.

And without further ado, the girls launched into their game, a variation on an old Shire classic. Their dull morning shattered, the rest of the day could only prove to grow exponentially more interesting.

* * *

A dense fog rolled onto the moor and the hunting party separated into sub-groups without realizing it. Most of the hardier and younger North Tooks were up in the front, while the older ones trod behind them. Drufo ran around in circles, pestering his older cousins, while his father and Saradoc Brandybuck went along at their pace, apparently deep in discussion. The rest of the Southern visitors were all trudging far behind. They hardly spoke, for Pippin and Fatty were still cold and groggy, Frodo was too busy being wary of the environment, and Merry was keeping an eye on Frodo, as his behavior was worrying him. Only Sam could talk, for he was overcome with excitement at being in such a foreign part of the Shire.

"Oh, Mister Frodo, do you think there's a chance we'll see one of those Tree Folk up here?" he gushed, remembering the story his cousin Hal had told him recently. "You remember my cousin Hal, don't you? Well, he went hunting up here not so long ago and he told me he saw a tree-man walking across the moor. Isn't that the queerest thing?"

"Oh, Sam, not you too!" cried Pippin. "Mun- I mean, a friend of mine spoke of seeing tree people too. But that sounds too preposterous. Don't you think so, Frodo?"

"What friend?" said Merry, giving Pippin a sly look. Before Pippin could bluster out a response, Frodo interrupted.

"I wouldn't discount it," he said. "These are strange times. But I fear we have fouler things to worry about than mythical Tree Folk as long as we wander the moor."

"What do you mean?" said Fatty with a frightened gulp.

"The North is a strange country," said Frodo, his voice faint and low. "Many travel across the lands, but there is only so much the Bounders can do. And with trouble brewing abroad as it is, I fear there are more than a few unwelcome and unsavory guests trespassing."

"But what does that mean? Who is trespassing?" whined Fatty, growing more and more hysterical.

"Wolves?" said Sam with some trepidation. "My grand-dad, Roper Gamgee, lived through the Fell Winter and he used to tell me such stories. Used to curl the hairs of my neck, they did."

"Wolves and worse," said Frodo even more quietly. Privately he thought of the stories of wights and orcs and foul men and the horrid things from Angmar. Bilbo knew how to tell good stories, even if they weren't perfectly appropriate for a little boy at bedtime. But now he looked at his friends and could tell he'd frightened them out of their wits and regretted bringing up the topic. In all honesty he doubted any real danger would befall them today; and even if anything were to happen, they were such a large and well armed group that they could certainly take care of themselves.

"Oh, but look at you all, shaking from fright!" he said with a laugh, shifting gears quite dramatically. "I have gone and said too much. I have ruined your hunt!"

"If we're shaking, it's only from the cold!" said Pippin defensively, not wanting to appear afraid. He was a little unnerved by Frodo's talk, but it was mostly the way his friend seemed so distant throughout it all. He'd seemed as if he wasn't there with him, but standing on a tall hill, his eyes peering past the borders of their land and gazing into far and eldrich parts of the world. He looked over at Merry and could see he felt the same way.

"If you lot keep telling all these nursery tales, we shall never catch anything today!" said Merry jokingly. The others laughed appreciatively and the mood seemed to lift almost immediately.

Sam turned to Frodo and quietly said, "But the Tree Folk, Mister Frodo; do you think they're real? Honest now."

Frodo smiled and shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I don't know. But I think anything is possible."

Sam said nothing, but his eyes shined with hope and he held his head high as he walked along. Fatty, however, was not completely satisfied and still peevish about having to go on the hunt in the first place.

"Do you even know what we're hunting for?" he said, turning to Pippin.

"Why would I know?" said Pippin.

"Well, your... er, _friend_ didn't tell you anything?" said Fatty in a very pointed way. Merry smirked as he listened in on the conversation.

"What friend? Fatty, speak plainly, would you!" Pippin snapped. "One friend speaking in riddles is enough!"

Fatty rolled his eyes. If he was being at all vague, it was only for Pippin's benefit.

"The little blonde one? With the freckles?" said Fatty, elbowing Pippin in the ribs. This seemed to clarify things a bit, as Pippin made a silent "oh" and grinned.

"No, no, she doesn't know anything, nor has she told me anything," he said much too quickly.

"Did you get to talk to her very long yesterday?" said Merry who was in the mood for tween teasing. "You were out for _quite_ some time last night."

"No, not really-"

"What, _our_ Peregrin walking about at night with young ladies... unchaperoned?" gasped Frodo in mock shock. "Why, you've changed so much in so short a time!"

"It wasn't like that!" squawked Pippin, his face reddening by the second.

"And don't think we didn't notice you two sneakin' off together at Mister Frodo's party," said Sam with a wink.

"The scandal!" said Fatty with a melodramatic flourish.

"That's not what- we weren't- there was a reason- oh!" Pippin had grown too flustered of all the teasing and stopped walking.

"That's it, I'm going to go find my father!" he suddenly exclaimed.

"And tattle on us?" chortled Merry.

"No..." said Pippin slowly, realizing how childish he seemed right now. Then he came up with a proper excuse (and a good idea, what's more). "He has been hanging back for too long and I want to see if he needs me."

The others seemed to acknowledge that this was fairly responsible of him and he'd started heading back, when there suddenly came a loud whistle. He stopped and turned around to see a sight more horrifying than any wolf or ghost: Bandogrim Took was waving at him to come join him, a most hideous smile spread across his face.

"Peregrin, lad, come join me up front!" he called out.

Pippin turned quite pale and barely managed to utter a response. "N-no thanks, sir, I'm quite all right back here!"

"Nonsense, I need your help!" shouted Bandogrim. Pippin couldn't see from where he stood, but Bandogrim's face had twitched ever so slightly at that sentence.

"Go on, Pip," said Merry. "You do not want to insult your host."

As Pippin began to drag himself forward, thinking of an appropriate way to explain his need to seek out his father, Saradoc came bustling past him, heading in the opposite direction.

"You boys have a good time," he said to Pippin and the rest of the group. "This sport is doing quite a number on my joints. I'm going to join the other old badgers, as I should have from the start! Goodbye, lads!"

And without further ado, he disappeared into the fog, and along with him went Pippin's excuse. As he realized this in horror and disappointment, he came to find himself standing face to face with Mundee's father.

"There's a good fellow," said Bandogrim, the smile already waning. "I have a special mission for you. Follow me now."

As he veered off the trail and nearly out of sight, Pippin glanced back at his friends, a pleading expression on his face. They didn't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation and merely waved him on, grins and smirks all around. He frowned, thinking about all the ways to pay them back later.

But in the meantime, he had only one option. He took a mighty deep breath and followed Bandogrim into the thick wall of fog.

* * *

All previous excitement the girls had felt in the beginning of the game had washed away as Estella won for the umpteenth time.

"I'm telling you the honest truth: I have never played this game before!" Estella protested, as the others shot her dirty looks. "I can't help it if I'm naturally suited for it."

"And I can't help it if I'm dying of boredom," whined Molly. Then turning to Mundee, she went on, "Why can't we give up already?"

"Because I am the hostess and I am determined to show you all a good time," grumbled Mundee as she shuffled the cards. If she could keep three guests entertained long enough, perhaps that would show her mother she was mature enough that she didn't need to be watched during every activity. "Now we're going to keep playing and you're going to have fun, whether you like it or not!"

Molly sighed and gazed wistfully out the window. "But I want to go catch up to the lads and see how their hunt is going."

Mundee snorted. "Oh, you are _certainly_ not leaving in _that_ case."

Molly groaned and sagged dramatically in her seat, looking even more bored if that was possible. Pervinca, however, was finding her curiosity very piqued.

"Why do you want to see their hunt? Hunts are messy and unpleasant half the time, and duller than _this_ the other half of the time."

"It's not the hunt she's interested in," said Mundee, rolling her eyes, as she dealt out the cards. "It's one of the hunters."

Molly gasped and smacked her cousin on the shoulder. Estella shook her head at the immaturity, but Pervinca was getting more and more intrigued.

"Is that so? Which hunter?" she said, leaning over to Molly, who only shook her head in response. Pervinca smirked as she suddenly developed a very devious idea.

"I know how to make our games more lively," she said. "Mundee, I'm feeling rather parched. What do you have to drink?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Mundee as she scrutinized her hand. "I'm sure there's water and juice in the kitchen, but I could probably have a servant bring some tea."

"That's not exactly what I had in mind," said Pervinca. "I was thinking of something a little more... bitter."

Mundee suddenly looked up, the gears in her head finally rolling into place. Estella, too, snapped up from her cards, except she seemed far less excited and a little horrified.

"Surely you're not suggesting-"

"I most certainly am," said Pervinca with a grin.

"You know what? That is a _smashing_ idea!" exclaimed Mundee as she jumped up from her seat. "In fact," she went on in a hushed tone, "if you lot wait a minute, I think I can rustle something up. I'm fairly sure Daddy keeps a spare bottle of gin in the next room."

"Marvelous!" said Pervinca, clapping her hands.

Mundee dashed out of the room and Estella began to rub her temples.

"This is a _bad_ idea," she said. "A very very BAD idea."

"I'm not allowed to drink gin," said Molly. "I'm not even allowed juice, most of the time. I'm told I act funny."

"Ah, don't worry, you'll be fine," said Pervinca, patting her on the head. "You'll be in safe company."

Molly bit her lip, plainly quite eager to try something so forbidden. Estella continued to mutter her disapproval, but did nothing to stop Mundee when she returned with a full bottle.

"Beautiful," said Pervinca, as Mundee placed the dark bottle in the center of the table.

"So what are the rules?" said Mundee as she took her seat again. "When do we drink?"

Pervinca took a moment to think this over. "How about when you lose, you take a small sip. And when you win, you take a big swig."

"We are all going to be sick by the end of this game," said Estella.

"I like it! Let's begin!" said Molly as she greedily grabbed at her cards.

Pervinca picked up her hand and smiled crookedly as she imagined how wickedly funny her plan would turn out in the end.

* * *

Pippin shuddered as he made his way through the moor, trying not to stay too close to Bandogrim, but neither wanting to fall too far behind and winding up lost. He grasped his bow a little too tight, his knuckles a painful shade of white. He wasn't much of a hunter, having gone on few trips in his short life. His father had taken him maybe twice and it had been in the peaceful and safe Green Hill Country. He'd also gone with his friends several times, but all those trips had ended with a lot of tomfoolery and jesting. He'd never felt there was any sort of real _danger_. But now his nerves were on fire. Possibly worse than the cold and the fog was the impenetrable silence. Though he didn't know if speaking would honestly be all that much better.

As he walked along, lost in his thoughts, the silence was finally broken by a whistle from Bandogrim and Pippin realized things were about to get a lot more awkward.

"Come here, boy," shouted the older hobbit. Pippin ran to catch up, though he wished he could dart off in the opposite direction.

"Y-yes, sir?" he wheezed out as he reached Bandogrim.

"We're getting close," grunted Bandogrim.

"Er, close to what?" said Pippin, scratching the back of his neck. "Where exactly are we going, sir?"

"There should be a bog nearby," said Bandogrim, pointing ahead with a knife. It was only now that Pippin realized that in addition to a bow, which everyone had brought, the older hobbit had brought several large knives and other frightening looking devices. Pippin didn't like the idea of going to a bog with anyone this well armed.

"And why are we going to a bog?" he said, his voice climbing several pitches. Bandogrim regarded him with more disdain than he'd ever seen in a look before.

"Because," he said slowly, "the thing we are hunting can most often be found by a bog."

"Oh. Right," said Pippin simply. He was scared to ask any more questions, but there were so many floating in his head. What were they hunting? Why had he chosen Pippin, of all people, to accompany him on this private hunt? Why had he equipped himself with so many weapons? And why in the world did he continue to gesticulate with that huge knife?

As he walked, still trying to maintain some distance between himself and the frightening older hobbit, Pippin began to notice the ground growing sort of more spongy. At last they were upon the bog and Bandogrim gestured for Pippin to stop.

"This is it," said Bandogrim in a gravelly low whisper. "Go sit behind that bush over there and don't make a sound."

Pippin did as he was told, but he found himself wondering over and over whether this wasn't an elaborate plan to push him in the bog.

"Why, oh, _why_ did I not have Merry teach me how to swim?" he muttered as he made himself as comfortable as possible, crouching behind the oddly-shaped bush.

"Didn't I tell you to stay quiet?" hissed Bandogrim as he came up behind him. Pippin's heart nearly jumped into his throat. If Bandogrim was trying to give him a death of fright, he was more than halfway there.

"Sorry," he whispered. He took a deep breath and then braved another sound. "What are we looking for?"

"A snipe," said Bandogrim.

"Oh, right," said Pippin, as if that should have been obvious. "And they're in season now?"

Bandogrim glared at him. "Are you suggesting I don't know whether the bird I am hunting is in season? Do you think me a fool? That I don't know what I'm doing? Are you such a master that you know better than I?"

Pippin panicked, clearly saying the wrong thing. "No, no! Not at all! I was just making conversation!"

"Hunting isn't about making conversation," spat Bandogrim. "It is about being patient. It is about being smarter and stronger than your prey. It is the ultimate experience of any male's life. If you'd rather be off drinking tea and eating dainty sweets and _making conversation_, you can head back to the Smials and-"

"No, that's not what I meant!" cried Pippin.

"Then sit still and BE QUIET," said Bandogrim. Pippin took a shaky breath and forced himself to be still; if he hadn't been brought here to be executed, but to be tested, then nothing mattered more than to pass this test.

* * *

Several rounds and half a bottle of gin later, the girls were having a lovely time. They'd added more rules to the game, whereby every time you lost you had to share a secret. So far they'd learned that Pervinca's coming of age ball would have a fancy dress theme and that Mundee had a horrible phobia of child-birth.

"It's just so strange, though, innit?" she said as she put down her card, an eight of hearts. "And it seems so painful."

"Yer only sayin' that cuz you saw yer mum givin' birth to Drufo," slurred Molly, putting down her card, a queen of spades.

"Can't say I'm looking forward to it much myself, but I'm not really _scared_ of it," said Pervinca with a shrug as she put down a six of clubs.

"I can see why it would be fruh... fri... scary," said Estella, her eyes unfocused as she slapped down a king of hearts. "Honestly I think it just depends on when you're prepuh... pre... pre... ready."

"Ooh, drat, looks like I lose again," said Pervinca before taking a sip. She cleared her throat and exhaled comically, causing her far more inebriated companions to giggle. "All right, time for a secret."

"Make it a good one!" shouted Mundee.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking," said Pervinca, waving her off. "Well, to tell you the truth, I don't know if I'm ready to come of age."

"Why not?" said Estella. "I can't wait for mine. My party. S'going to be right good."

"Well, you're different than me, Estella," said Pervinca, shrugging. "You and Merry, you both have something and anyone that has eyes or ears can see that. I don't have anyone and frankly I'm not keen to find someone."

"Speaking of you and Merry, how is that going?" interrupted Mundee. "Because if you ever get sick of him..."

"Ha, ha," said Estella sarcastically. "Paws off."

"As I was saying," said Pervinca loudly. "I don't know, I just feel like everyone already wants me to settle down, but there's just so much I still want to do."

"Like wot?" said Molly. "Anyway, lads are great. I can't wait to come of age and get married. I'mma have a million babies."

"Sure you are," laughed Mundee. "With who?"

"Wouldn't you like to know!" said Molly, sticking her nose up in the air.

"I know who," said Mundee with a sneaky grin. She turned to Pervinca and continued, "She fancies your brother, she does."

"Does she?" said Pervinca, utterly surprised but even more utterly amused.

"Ooh, you shut yer mouth!" yelled Molly at Mundee as she began to playfully beat her, while Mundee hid under her raised arms.

"That's rather unexpected, t'say the least," chortled Estella. "I would have thought..." She pointed at Mundee and gave Pervinca a questioning look.

"Actually, so would I," said Pervinca in a fake loud whisper. Mundee stopped hiding to sit up and make a face.

"Eurgh, what? No no no, that's ridiculous," she said. "Why would you think that? Of all people!" Then turning to Pervinca, she quickly added, "No offense, but you know..."

"None taken," said Pervinca, laughing. "Though you do protest quite a bit. Makes one wonder."

"I'm telling you all, it's not like that!" said Mundee shrilly. "We're friends and we're a bit silly sometimes, but that's it."

"Fine, fine, we don't want to argue with you," said Pervinca, raising her arms up defensively.

"Anyway, I wouldn't dream of stealing him from _Moooolly_," crooned Mundee. Molly shoved her cousin's face away and turned bright red.

"Moving on," said Pervinca, ever the diplomat. "You know who hasn't shared a secret yet? Miss Bolger."

"That's because I keep winning," said Estella with a faux humble shrug. The other girls laughed and threw their cards at her.

* * *

A painfully long amount of time had gone by with neither Pippin nor Bandogrim saying anything. Pippin was finding it particularly uncomfortable and wished he could come up with a decent excuse to get away. He began to imagine fanciful scenarios where his friends dashed in dramatically and rescued him from the awkwardness. But of course that would never be the case; they were probably still laughing and carrying on at his expense.

At this thought, he sighed loudly without realizing it and instantly drew Bandogrim's attention. He met the scowl with a horrified, wide-eyed expression and began to stammer uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be so loud! Oh, I'm talking now! I didn't mean for that to happen either! I'm still talking, aren't I?"

He was shut up by Bandogrim's sudden hand covering his mouth. The older hobbit looked agitated, to say the least. Pippin hoped the inexplicable parade of words would go away when the hand was removed. Unfortunately this was not so.

"So Mundee doesn't like to talk about what you do for a living," he continued, without quite realizing what he was saying. "What exactly is it that you do?"

As soon as he finished uttering the words, he clapped his own hands over his mouth and stared at Bandogrim aghast. Bandogrim, however, did not look livid. In fact he smiled, which in itself was fairly terrifying.

"I'm glad you asked that," he said slowly.

"You are?" squeaked Pippin. Bandogrim nodded.

"Let me ask you a question," said Bandogrim, leaning forward. "Do you know who takes care of trouble-makers in the Shire?"

Pippin wondered whether this was a trick question. "Er, the Shirriffs, sir?" he said carefully.

"That's right," said Bandogrim nodding. "But can you imagine a crime so terrible, so absolutely abominable, so disgusting and reprehensible that even the Shirriffs cannot handle it?"

Pippin tried to picture this but couldn't think of anything more terrible than stealing someone else's meal or forcing a growing lad into frocks. Even that wouldn't get someone in trouble with the law, though; he knew from experience.

"I don't know what you mean, sir," he said. "I don't think there's anyone in the Shire who could do something _that_ terrible."

"You'd be surprised," said Bandogrim darkly. "No one hears about folk like that for a reason."

"What reason would that be?" said Pippin with a gulp.

"Well, if the Shirriffs can't take care of them..."

"Someone else does?" said Pippin, trying to put the pieces together.

"Now you're getting it," said Bandogrim, with that same frightening grin and now a strange glint in his eyes.

"I'm still not sure I do," said Pippin. Secretly, he thought to himself that he didn't particularly _want_ to get it.

"Well, let's put it this way," said Bandogrim. "A fellow gets involved with a lass that hasn't come of age. Things progress and she finds herself in a delicate position. Naturally, her parents wouldn't be happy about this. They'd want the cad taken care of."

Bandogrim spread his hands in a gesture that said, "And there you have it." Pippin stared at him, his mind attempting to wrap itself around all this information. He just couldn't believe hobbits were even capable of such awful deeds. Or that people could be 'taken care of,' whatever that even meant.

"But I have never even heard of anything like this, sir," he gasped.

"You haven't heard about it, because you aren't meant to hear about it," said Bandogrim gruffly, his smile fading. "Ask your uncle Saradoc about a certain servant named 'Chester Fields.' He was a right brutish sod if I ever saw one."

"But things like that just don't happen!" Pippin exclaimed, unable to contain himself any longer.

"I assure you, they do, _boy_," spat Bandogrim, now standing up. Pippin quickly jumped to his feet, but not fast enough, because Bandogrim now had him by his collar.

"So if I _ever_ find out about you doing anything indecent to my Diamond..."

"WHAT?" Pippin cried, unable to believe what he was hearing. "I would never-"

"You touch so much as one _hair_ on her head-"

"But we are just friends!" shrieked Pippin, somehow drowning out Bandogrim's threats. "I would never do anything like that! I don't think of her like that! I can't even imagine what you're talking about!"

Bandogrim stopped yelling, but didn't put Pippin back down. He spoke now in a lower, calmer tone. "Are you telling me the truth, boy?"

"Sir, I don't think I would be capable of lying to you," squeaked Pippin. "You frighten me too much."

At hearing this, Bandogrim chortled and released Pippin. "That's what I like to hear."

"Thank you, sir," said Pippin without thinking, before exhaling in relief. But just as he thought he was free, Bandogrim came up close to him and stuck his finger in his chest.

"But if I find out _anything_ is out of order... if you hurt her in _any_ way," he said, "So help me, I will rend you limb from limb and make it so no one even remembers your name."

Pippin gaped at him, mouth hanging open and eyes the size of saucers.

"Now, go join your friends," barked Bandogrim with a shooing gesture. "GO!"

Pippin didn't need to be told twice. He ran away so fast it was almost as if he wasn't wearing a dozen layers of clothing. When he caught up with Frodo and Merry and the rest, he was quite out of breath, but very happy to be alive and away from Bandogrim Took.

"There you are!" chuckled Merry at Pippin's sudden appearance. "How did your private hunting session go?"

Pippin took a moment to catch his breath and then looked up at his friends with a genuine smile. "Altogether better than I had expected!"

* * *

Back at Northern Smials the girls had given up any pretense at playing cards and simply began passing the bottle around and sharing secrets after each swig.

"Arright, arright, here's a good one," said Estella, as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve. "When I was little, I learned t'bake _just_ so I could throw a pie at Merry."

Mundee and Molly laughed appreciatively, but Pervinca shook her head.

"Oh, that's not a real secret!" she said. "Everyone knows that story."

"They clearly don't," Estella said, pointing at the other two.

"Come on, give us something juicy!" coaxed Pervinca.

"Yes! Like when was yer first kiss!" shouted Molly. Estella looked scandalized.

"Much too person... pers... perrr... NO."

"Why were you an' Merry so cross at each other over th'summer?" said Mundee, her eyes narrowed sneakily.

"Tha's even worse!" cried Estella, blushing furiously.

"Everybody calm down!" said Pervinca firmly, causing the other three to grow quiet. "Here's one: what is your greatest dream? Something you want to do with your life."

"Oh, I dunno, I s'pose settlin' down with a good hobbit an' havin' a nice family?" said Estella with a weak shrug.

"Aw, come on, really?" said Pervinca, disappointed.

"I dunno! I don't think about those things!" said Estella, throwing her arms up in the air.

"Well, think about it now," said Pervinca, folding her arms.

Estella took a moment to focus herself, breathing in deeply, then looked around as if to see if anyone were eavesdropping and leaned in close. "If you want to know, I sometimes like to imagine owning a little shop."

"A little shop?" said Mundee loudly before bursting into laughter. Molly began to laugh too, though not as rambunctiously.

"What's wrong with that?" said Estella, looking deeply offended.

"There's nothing wrong with it," said Pervinca, shooting Mundee a look of disapproval. "What sort of a shop, Estella?"

"Well, sweets and pastries, I guess. I'd bake all sorts of things."

"Ooh, wouldja make more tasty squares?" said Molly.

"As long as Lobelia isn't there, yes!" said Estella with a wink, causing the rest of the girls to burst into laughter again.

"Well, what is stopping you from doing that?" said Pervinca as she settled back down.

"It's silly," said Estella with a shrug. "I don't think my parents would go for it."

"They seem sensible enough," said Pervinca. "I'm sure they see how much you love baking-"

"Pervinca, just drop it," said Estella, no longer quite so amused. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Anyway, we've talked about Esmella long enough!" said Mundee loudly. "It's Molly's turn."

"You know, I'm really not so fond of that nickname," said Estella as she passed the nearly empty bottle of gin to Molly. Mundee merely stuck out her tongue in response.

"My... secret... is..." said Molly slowly, as she wondered what to talk about. Then glancing sideways at Mundee, she quickly exclaimed, "Mundee writes a lot of silly stories in her diary!"

"Oi, that's not fair!" squawked Mundee. "You're supposed to tell your own stupid secret!"

"You shoulda thought of that before you went and told them 'bout mine!" snapped Molly in return.

Now Estella and Pervinca exchanged amused looks as the cousins began to squabble. In the middle of all this, they missed the distinct sound of hurried footsteps in the hallway. Before they could hide the bottle or sit up straight or tidy themselves up in any way, there came a loud shocked gasp from the doorway. They all whipped around to see Delilah Took, Esmeralda Brandybuck, and Rosamunda Bolger standing there, looking absolutely livid.

"What is the meaning of this?" cried Mundee's mother. "Diamond, have you been through your father's liquor cabinet again?"

"Mum, this really isn't what it looks like..." Mundee sputtered as she frantically tried to think of a valid excuse or explanation.

"Oh, I don't feel so good," gasped Molly before keeling over. Mundee and the other girls watched in horror as Molly proceeded to retch all over the floor.

"Shameful!" said Rosamunda as she yanked Estella up from her seat.

"I don't care if you are coming of age in a month or a day!" shouted Esmeralda as she dragged Pervinca off. "You are my brother's daughter and if he knew what you were up to, he'd give you such a smack bottom!"

Mundee winced as she listened to Pervinca's aunt loudly berate her all the way down the corridor.

"I am so sorry about this," said Delilah to Rosamunda, who was leading Estella out with silent fury. Then turning to Mundee, she exhaled loudly and shook her head. "I just don't know what to do with you."

"I can explain! Really, I can!"

All the while, Molly continued to throw up in the background. When she finally stopped and stood up on her wobbly legs, Delilah looked at her sternly.

"Molly, run along and clean yourself up, before I fetch your mother," she said. Molly didn't need to be told twice. She dashed out of the room as if her life depended on it. Then Delilah returned her attention to Mundee.

"And _you_ are going to stay here and clean that mess up."

"Yes, Mum."

"And you shan't be joining us tonight for dinner or supper."

"Yes, Mum."

"In fact, you won't be leaving your room at all today."

"All right, Mum."

"And if I catch you speaking to any of our guests, you won't be coming with us to any of their upcoming parties."

"Fine."

"Do you understand? That includes the Thain's boy."

"Now that's a bit harsh, isn't it? I mean, he hasn't done anything-"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Mundee sighed, but nodded.

"That's better," said Delilah icily.

She then handed her a rag she'd brought from the kitchen and whisked out of the room. Mundee was left standing alone, staring at the rag.

* * *

That evening the hunting party returned weary but not unhappy, as several North Took lads had managed to shoot down a deer while the rest were successful with smaller game. Even Fatty came back carrying a rabbit. Once they were all washed up and rested, they came to the great dining hall for dinner where a long table was laden with an assortment of delicious dishes. Pippin was so busy digging into his ham and mashed potatoes he almost didn't notice that Mundee was missing. However, halfway through dessert he realized Molly was sitting across from him, watching him eat with a frighteningly gleeful expression. That was when he also realized her cousin wasn't there to chide her.

"Er, hullo Molly," he stammered. "Where is Diamond?"

"Oh, she's in her room," said Molly with the same vapid smile. "She's in trouble."

"Really? What in the world did she do?" Pippin was shocked. So far it seemed like no matter what shenanigans she got into, Mundee never ended up punished. Whatever she had done this time, it must have been serious.

"She found some gin and got us girls drunk," said Molly. "Her mother was very unhappy. She's not allowed out for a while."

"Hmm, that's too bad," said Pippin, trying not to let on how upset the news made him, as he saw Bandogrim Took glaring at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, serves her right for acting so unladylike," he said loudly. "I know I wouldn't want to associate with someone who carries on like that."

Bandogrim turned away and went back to his prior conversation and Pippin let out a sigh of relief. Afterwards he confided his disappointment to Merry, while an exhausted Fatty snored on the couch. The two cousins sat cross-legged on the bear-skin rug in front of the fireplace.

"I don't know why you're so bothered by it," said Merry after listening at length. "Doesn't it make it make it easier with her father now?"

"I suppose," said Pippin. "It's just unfair, though. We come all this way to visit and she gets locked up for something so silly. I have half a mind that Pervinca put her up to it, anyway."

"I'll tell you what's unfair," said Merry. "A fine lady I rather fancy didn't want to speak to me tonight on account of her 'terrible headache.' Do you know whose fault that is?"

"Her own fault for having so little tolerance for gin?" said Pippin with a smirk. Merry chuckled despite himself and shook his head.

"Regardless, I don't see the problem," he said. Then with a shifty look, he went on, "It isn't as if you too are missing a lady you fancy. Unless... you _do_ fancy her."

"Oh, Merry, don't be preposterous!" laughed Pippin, though his cheeks did flush. "How many times do I have to tell you-"

"Then it isn't a problem, is it?" interrupted Merry.

"No, I guess not," said Pippin with a shrug.

"Don't worry, you will still have a good time," said Merry. "The week will fly by, I promise."

* * *

And Merry spoke true, because between two more hunting trips, drunken adventures in the local tavern, and all the Yule games, dances, presents, and meals, Pippin hardly found himself missing Mundee. He instead found himself constantly in the company of his friends and new Northern acquaintances. There was hardly ever a dull moment and before he knew it, it was the night before they were all set to leave.

He walked through the woods whistling to himself. He and the rest of his usual company had set up a campfire on the outskirts of the property, so as to be left alone by the older hobbits, who insisted they go to bed early and prepare for the long ride in the morning. They'd taken turns telling stories, with Frodo's tales being the most poetic, Sam's the most colorful, and Merry's the most frightening. He and Pervinca had mostly told nonsensical funny yarns, having a similar sense of humor. The rest mostly listened and enjoyed the crackling flames amid the cool winter air and the starry sky.

But toward the end they'd all split up, with Fatty once again the earliest to go to bed, Sam and Frodo escorting Molly and Pervinca to their rooms, and Merry and Estella sneaking off to traipse through the grounds undisturbed.

So now Pippin headed back to his cabin, tired but cheerful and warm in his hooded cloak. He was halfway there when he heard a loud _crunch_ behind him. He stopped in place and paused in fear to listen. Inwardly he knew there was probably nothing to worry about, but after a night full of Merry's wights, werewolves, snarks and grumkins his mind was racing with images of horrible beasts and bogeymen.

He heard nothing but the cold wind blowing a mournful response. He decided to walk on. After a minute's worth of anxious wandering through increasingly menacing pines, he heard the distinct sound of footsteps behind him and swiveled around. The manic pounding of his heart did not slow down when he saw that there was no one there.

He stood on the spot trembling and wondering what to do. In all the stories Merry had told, the hero (but more like victim) always called out "Who goes there?" only to find himself eaten or worse by the end of the tale, so Pippin wasn't going to make that mistake.

No, he was a step ahead. He knew well enough to make the first move and picked up a large branch off the ground. There was a pair of trees standing peculiarly close with a large convenient bush connecting them in the middle. He could have swore he saw the bush move slightly when he'd whipped around. Now he approached cautiously and as silently as he could, wielding the branch like some warrior's great sword.

As he found himself within striking range of the bush, he saw the foliage tremble slightly and then heard the faintest hint of a low hiss. Without thinking he swung down as hard as he could, causing the monster he'd hit to shriek loudly... in a rather girlish tone.

"Oh, no...!" moaned Pippin as he realized what he'd done. "Why do we always meet like this?"

* * *

Meanwhile by the edge of the North Took property, Merry was sitting by an old tree with Estella's head in his lap. The pair had a spectacular view of the moor and the starry sky and altogether were enjoying the quiet moment. When suddenly there came a shriek and a howl somewhere in the woods and Estella jerked her head up.

"Did you hear that?" she worriedly asked Merry.

"It's probably nothing," he told her as he continued to gaze out at the eerily beautiful vista in front of them. "Just one of the dogs, perhaps. Or maybe Fatty is having a night terror."

Estella didn't think his suggestion was funny and sat up with a frown. "It did not sound like Fatty."

"_Fine._ Then it's Pippin. Happy?"

"I'm serious, Merry. It sounded like someone was hurt or scared."

"That's not what he sounds like when he's hurt or scared. I'd give you an example, but I'm afraid it would damage your ears."

Estella couldn't help but smile as he tickled her ear as one does with a cat. She batted him away but didn't stand up.

"If you're sure there's nothing to worry about, then I won't worry," she said, leaning against his shoulder.

"I am very sure," said Merry, as he placed his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

* * *

Pippin bit his lip in worry as he hovered over Mundee's fainted body. He could see where he'd hit her as her forehead was very red and there seemed to be a bump growing on the spot. He wondered whether it was best to bring her back to the smials and try to explain the situation to her parents or to leave her out in the woods and pretend he never saw her. In one case he risked himself being killed by her crazed father and in the other he'd be responsible for her dying of frost. Not many pleasant options.

"Come on, wake up," he said, fanning her face with a smaller leafy branch. That effort failing he took to lightly slapping her cheeks. "Don't be dead... please, oh please, don't be dead..."

Suddenly an eye cracked open.

"Would you be terribly devastated?" she murmured as she came to. Pippin breathed an enormous sigh of relief and slumped down against the nearest tree. She sat up and rubbed her head then squinted at him suspiciously.

"Was that you that hit me?"

"Yes," Pippin said sheepishly. "You frightened me!"

"Oh, what a great big brave Took you are," she snorted.

"Well, why were you stalking me?" he said in an indignant and accusatory tone.

"I didn't realize you were you!" she exclaimed. "You had your hood up and you looked like some kind of shadow creature."

Pippin chuckled and said, "I thought you were something like that, too, actually."

She laughed and they shared a quiet moment of mutual embarrassment.

"To be fair, though, you did hiss at me when I came up to the bush," Pippin pointed out. Mundee cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I wasn't hissing, I was sniffling," she said, pointing at her runny nose as she demonstrated. "I've been sick for half the week."

"Oh, that's too bad," said Pippin. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing you had to stay indoors all that time then, isn't it?"

Mundee shrugged. "I don't know. I reckon that might have been why I got sick in the first place."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not really one for staying inside for long stretches," said Mundee slowly, trying to make sense of her theory. "I like going outside and running through the grass and exploring the moor and having adventures. Being trapped in my room for so long... it just sort of wears me out. The gloom and the dust and the darkness."

Pippin suddenly felt very guilty about forgetting her for all that time. He didn't say anything and neither did Mundee. They both stared at the ground for a long and rather uncomfortable moment.

"Aren't you afraid of your parents discovering that you're out now?" Pippin finally spoke. "Wouldn't you get in trouble?"

"Oh, a world of trouble," said Mundee with a sudden grin. "But I had to come out and find you."

"What, me? Really? Why?" Pippin was grateful for the lack of moonlight to reveal the growing redness in his cheeks.

"I wanted to say goodbye before you left," said Mundee simply. "You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Yes, but... well, that's silly," said Pippin with a laugh. "You'll get to see all of us within less than two months. Pervinca's party isn't that far away."

"No, I suppose not," said Mundee, laughing as well. "I just really needed to get out of my room."

Pippin shook his head and wondered whether she was feverish. The more he looked at her, the more he realized she didn't look at all well. Her eyes were dark and sunken, her skin was pale and damp with sweat, and her hair was limp and lifeless. Maybe the fresh air could do her some good, but most likely she just needed some rest. What's more, she was improperly dressed for the frigid air, wearing only her night gown and not even a coat or a jumper.

"Don't you think you'd better go home now?" he asked carefully as he stood up. "If either of your parents sees that you are missing..."

"I know, I know," groaned Mundee, rising to her feet as well. "I'm just so tired of dealing with them. They're very batty, the both of them."

"Oh, I couldn't agree with you more," said Pippin. "Your father has it in for me, remember? By the by, he definitely threatened me during the hunting trip. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life."

"I heard about that," said Mundee. "He has a tendency to rant when he's irritable. I usually ignore his tirades, but the one about the hunting trip was actually quite fascinating."

Pippin winced, but Mundee smiled again and patted his arm. "Don't worry, he'll get over it soon enough. At least he knows for a fact you weren't involved in the drinking incident. And assuming they never find out I left my room, we'll still be coming to Pervinca's party."

"That's quite a large assumption considering you're still here," said Pippin, pulling her in the direction of the smials. "Come, you need to go back. I'll walk some of the way with you, if you want."

"I would like that," said Mundee, allowing herself to be pulled along. "And you can tell me all about the fun you've had without me this week."

So as they made their way back to Great Northern Smials, Pippin recounted how he passed his week. He still felt the pangs of guilt for having such a grand time while she wallowed alone in her room, but he revealed none of this as he regaled her with his hilarious and exciting (and exaggerated) exploits. Before they knew it, the stately manor was looming up in front of them. Pippin stopped abruptly at the edge of the woods.

"And I think this is as far as I shall go. Wouldn't want your father catching a whiff of me."

"Of course not," said Mundee with a falsely serious nod.

As they stood there trying to say goodbye, once again caught in an awkward silence, the faintest hint of a snow began to fall.

"Well, that's unusual," said Pippin, holding his hand out to catch a flake. It never snowed in Tuckborough or much of the rest of the Shire, and the few times he'd seen it himself, he'd been too young to remember. He heard stories about the Fell Winter of 1311 when the Brandywine froze over and white wolves entered from the North, but this was no blizzard, just a light sprinkle.

"It snows like this sometimes, but never enough," sighed Mundee wistfully. Pippin watched her twirl around with her mouth open, attempting to eat the flurries, and felt a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. It was moments like this when he remembered she was related to Molly. Still... it was an endearing if odd display. He suddenly felt his stomach churn and also remembered that it had been hours since he'd eaten. Though, strangely enough, he wasn't actually all that hungry.

"Well, Merry is probably waiting for me," he said lamely as he started to back away. "And I do need to pack my things for the trip tomorrow."

"Right, yes," said Mundee, as she stopped spinning around to look at him. "You had better get to that then. I'll see you at the party, all right?"

"Yes, definitely," said Pippin scratching the back of his neck. "I will certainly be there... because I live there."

"That makes sense," said Mundee, rubbing her arms, apparently feeling the cold now. Pippin pitied her and had the strangest desire to lend her his cloak. Though that would be a dead giveaway if anything.

"Right so..." he said as he began to turn around. He couldn't understand why, but this was by far one of the stranger partings they'd ever had. And they'd had a handful of strange partings.

"Oh!" Mundee suddenly exclaimed, causing him to quickly look at her again. "Pervinca told me her party would have a fancy dress theme, did you know?"

"Of course I know, she's my sister," he said with a smirk. "She has already been making requests and demands and giving everyone instructions."

"Well, what will you be dressing as?" asked Mundee expectantly.

"As if I would be telling you!" laughed Pippin, folding his arms.

"Oh, you're no fun!" exclaimed Mundee, sticking out her tongue rudely.

"You keep saying that, and yet you always come back," said Pippin, poking her on the nose. She swatted him away and in the process grabbed his hand.

"I will see you in February," she said giving his hand a firm shake. "Your costume better not disappoint me."

"Aye? Well, the same to you," he said, returning the handshake before wrenching his hand away and shoving her off. "Go on now, before you find yourself even more sick!"

"Good night! Happy Yule!" she said with a wink before dashing off home.

Though the snow did not stick to the ground, it was still a strange and somehow dream-like sight to see her running through the white haze. Once he saw her safely reach her window and climb through, Pippin turned around for good and once again started the trek back to his cabin. Though the dark trees shook and the wind blew right into his bones, he found himself neither afraid nor cold this time around.


End file.
